Snow Storms
by Marauders2003
Summary: Sequel to Snow Falls: Dumbledore is dead, and nothing is the same. The Ministry falls, and tragedy strikes, and Genevieve has to navigate this new world, unsure of who she can trust anymore. She suffers devastating losses, and worries night and day for those she loves, and appreciates the good all the more. Because in such a darkened world, one must truly embrace the light.
1. Chapter 1: Battle Over Little Whinging

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **I want to extend a huge thank you to everyone who has read this far, and I hope you will continue to read my — or rather, Genevieve's — story.**

 **Just to confirm, this will be the final book in the series, complete with an epilogue and some trivia.**

 **I hope you enjoy.**

•~0~•

"Absolutely not. No way in hell."

"Genevieve," Lupin warned her fairly. "You will be putting yourself in significant danger if you insist to do this."

"I insist," Genevieve said automatically. "I'm not letting you lot risk your lives while I wait at the Burrow. I'm of age, and I refuse to be sidelined."

"The plan will work without you," Mr. Weasley pointed out. "We already have seven Potters and seven protectors."

Genevieve glared at them all. Her father had convinced the other Order members to try to talk her out of doing this.

"Then I'll be an extra protector," she said fiercely. She turned to Moody. "They'll be looking for Harry. I could easily use a Disillusionment Charm, be a backup in case it's necessary."

Moody's face, unreadable to the untrained eye, betrayed a flicker of pride.

Her father cut in. "And what if Bellatrix is there? If she sees you — "

"If she wants to murder me for my existence so badly, she ought to feel the same — or more — about Tonks!" Genevieve shot back. "In her eyes, marrying a werewolf would be even worse — I'm sorry." Genevieve's eyes flickered to Lupin. "That was insensitive. I didn't mean — "

"No," said Lupin, much too quickly. "You're quite right." He looked down, and Genevieve saw his face fall into misery and shame.

"Well, I am an Auror," Tonks said quietly. "I can take care of myself."

"And I think I've more than proved that I can too," Genevieve said, looking imploringly at them. "You can't honestly think that you'd be better off without my help, could you?"

"Of course not," Bill said immediately.

"At least let me come as well," her father offered. "I could be another protector, and — "

"No," she said firmly. "I'm much more willing to risk my life than to risk yours."

"But — "

"No. I'm going, and nothing any of you could say would change my mind."

"Just like your mother," Moody spoke up suddenly. "Selfless and determined. A true hero."

"Thank you," said Genevieve, with a small smile.

Her father sighed. "I reckon I know when I've lost the battle."

The others stood up and filed out of the room, the meeting over. Mrs. Weasley bustled about, preparing dinner. The Order had switched to the Burrow as headquarters, as Dumbledore's death meant the Fidelius Charm had greatly weakened. Moody pulled Genevieve aside.

"I need you to promise me one thing, Genevieve," he growled lowly.

"All right," she said, "what is it?"

"I expect You-Know-Who will assume Harry is with the toughest, most skilled Aurors. He'll go after them first. That means he'll go after me first." He looked her dead in the eye, as if daring Genevieve to disagree. She didn't. "So," he went on, "If at any point it goes bad, and we're all in danger, but You-Know-Who's coming after me, you help the others."

"But what about — "

" _You help the others_ ," Moody said forcefully. "And you make sure that they don't put themselves in danger for my sake either. The objective is to get Harry to safety. You must keep him and the others safe, don't worry about me."

"There will be twelve other people to keep Harry safe, they could spare me to help you," Genevieve retorted.

"That's a mistake your mother made far too often," Moody replied impatiently. "I won't allow you to make it for her."

Genevieve could see there was no arguing this. "Fine," she relented. "But it's not going to come to that," she added. "The plan will work."

•~0~•

"Nice to see you again," George commented lightly as Genevieve lifted her Disillusionment Charm. They quickly did the same.

Fred whistled softly. "I was worried you'd take us all down, flying the way you were."

Genevieve made a face. "Flying isn't one of my strengths." She looked down at her Cleansweep, which she had only gotten for the many afternoons in which she had helped the twins and Charlie practice Quidditch. She'd been a horrible Chaser then, and her skill hadn't improved any since.

"You weren't that bad," George said fairly. "You can fly pretty well. Just don't expect to be joining any Quidditch teams."

Harry bolted toward them. Genevieve and the twins shouted greetings as Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid flocked around him.

"Ready fer the off?" she heard Hagrid say.

"Definitely," grinned Harry. "But I wasn't expecting this many of you!"

"Change of plan," Moody answered, gripping the two bags and scrutinizing his surroundings. "Let's get undercover before we talk you through it."

They followed Harry to the kitchen, talking merrily.

"Kingsley, I thought you were looking after the Muggle Prime Minister?" shouted Harry from the opposite end of the room.

"He can get along without me for one night," Kingsley responded in his deep, reassuring voice. "You're more important."

"Harry, guess what?" Tonks showed off her wedding ring, beaming.

"You got married?"

"I'm sorry you couldn't be there, Harry, it was very quiet. Right, Gen?"

Harry goggled at her. " _You_ got to go?"

Genevieve shrugged. "Well, I am family." When that didn't seem enough of an answer, she added, "And I threatened to hex them both if they even tried to get married without me there."

Harry laughed. "Well, that's brilliant, congrat — "

Moody cut across them. "All right, all right, we'll have time for a cozy catch-up later!" Everyone ceased their individual conversations instantly. Moody addressed Harry. "As Dedalus probably told you, we had to abandon Plan A. Pius Thicknesse has gone over, which gives us a big problem. He's made it an imprisonable offense to connect this house to the Floo Network, place a Portkey here, or Apparate in or out. All done in the name of your protection, to prevent You-Know-Who getting in at you. Absolutely pointless, seeing as your mother's charm does that already. What he's really done is to stop you getting out of here safely.

"Second problem: you're underage, which means you've still got the Trace on you."

"I don't — " started Harry, confused.

"The Trace, the Trace! The charm that detects magical activity around under-seventeens, the way the Ministry finds out about underage magic! If you, or anyone around you, casts a spell to get you out of here, Thicknesse is going to know about it, and so will the Death Eaters.

"We can't wait for the Trace to break, because the moment you turn seventeen you'll lose all the protection your mother gave you. In short: Pius Thicknesse thinks he's got you cornered good and proper."

Harry seemed alarmed by this, and for good measure, Genevieve supposed. He didn't know the plan. "So what are we going to do?"

"We're going to use the only means of transport left to us," Moody explained, "the only ones the Trace can't detect, because we don't need to cast spells to use them: brooms, thestrals, and Hagrid's motorbike.

"Now, your mother's charm will only break under two conditions: when you come of age, or you no longer call this place home. You and your aunt and uncle are going your separate ways tonight, in the full understanding that you're never going to live together again, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"Good riddance, from what I've seen of them," Genevieve muttered under her breath to the twins, who nodded agreement.

Moody didn't hear them, or ignored them. "So this time, when you leave, there'll be no going back, and the charm will break the moment you get outside its range. We're choosing to break it early, because the alternative is waiting for You-Know-Who to come and seize you the moment you turn seventeen.

"The one thing we've got on our side is that You-Know-Who doesn't know we're moving you tonight. We've leaked a fake trail to the Ministry: they think you're not leaving until the thirtieth. However, this is You-Know-Who we're dealing with, so we can't just rely on him getting the date wrong; he's bound to have a couple of Death Eaters patrolling the skies in this general area, just in case. So, we've given a dozen different houses every protection we can throw at them. They all look like they could be the place we're going to hide you, they've all got some connection with the Order: my house, Kingsley's place, Molly's Auntie Muriel's — you get the idea."

"Yeah," Harry answered warily. Genevieve bit her lip, preparing for his next reaction. She knew he wasn't going to like the plan.

"You'll be going to Tonks's parents'. Once you're within the boundaries of the protective enchantments we've put on their house, you'll be able to use a Portkey to the Burrow. Any questions?"

"Er — yes. Maybe they won't know which of the twelve secure houses I'm headed for at first, but won't it be sort of obvious once" — he paused to count the number of people in the room — "fifteen of us fly off toward Tonks's parents'?"

"Ah," Moody answered, "I forgot to mention the key point. Fifteen of us won't be flying to Tonks's parents'. There will be seven Harry Potters moving through the skies tonight, each of them with a companion, each pair heading for a different safehouse, and Genevieve flying between them all, making sure everyone reaches their destination safely."

He took out the Polyjuice Potion. Harry's eyes widened.

"No!" he shouted instantly. "No way!"

Genevieve sighed.

"I told them you'd take it like this," Hermione said calmly. Genevieve nodded.

"If you think I'm going to let six people risk their lives — !" started Harry furiously.

"— because it's the first time for all of us," Ron said dismissively.

"Yeah," Genevieve agreed, "I might not be masquerading as you, but I distinctly recall being Petrified, attacked by dementors, and dueled a few more times than I originally asked for."

"This is different, pretending to be me — "

"Well, none of us really fancy it, Harry," Fred informed him. "Imagine if something went wrong and we were stuck as specks scrawny gits forever."

"You can't do it if I don't cooperate, you need me to give you some hair."

Genevieve snorted. George worded it perfectly.

"Well, that's that plan scuppered. Obviously there's no chance at all of us getting a bit of your hair unless you cooperate."

"Yeah, fourteen of us against one bloke who's not allowed to use magic; we've got no chance," Fred completed.

"Funny," Harry said sarcastically, "really amusing."

"If it has to come to force, then it will," threatened Moody. "Everyone here's overage, Potter, and they're all prepared to take the risk."

Genevieve elbowed Mundungus sharply in the ribs; he had scowled, being personally less than prepared to take the risk.

"Let's have no more arguments," Moody continued impatiently. "Time's wearing on. I want a few of your hairs, boy, now."

"But this is mad," Harry protested, "there's no need — "

"No need!" scoffed Moody. "With You-Know-Who out there and half the Ministry on his side? Potter, if we're lucky he'll have swallowed the fake bait and he'll be planning to ambush you on the thirtieth, but he'd be mad not to have a Death Eater or two keeping an eye out, it's what I'd do. They might not be able to get at you or this house while your mother's charm holds, but it's about to break and they know the rough position of the place. Our only chance is to use decoys. Even You-Know-Who can't split himself into seven.

"So, Potter — some of your hair, if you please. Now!"

Grimacing, Harry, glaring at the lot of them, yanked out a small chunk.

"Good," Moody praised, holding out the flask. "Straight in here, if you please."

As he dropped in the hair, the potion bubbled up and instantly turned gold.

"Ooh, you look much tastier than Crabbe and Goyle, Harry," Hermione noted before realizing what she'd said. "Oh, you know what I mean — Goyle's potion looked like bogies."

"Right then, fake Potters line up over here, please," Moody instructed.

Five people shuffled over to the sink.

"We're one short," Lupin pointed out.

"Here," Hagrid grabbed Mundungus and placed him none-too-gently beside Fleur, who shuddered and moved away.

"I've toldjer, I'd sooner be a protector," Mundungus whined.

"Shut it," Moody snarled. "As I've already told you, you spineless worm, any Death Eaters we run into will be aiming to capture Potter, not kill him. Dumbledore always said You-Know-Who would want to finish Potter in person. It'll be the protectors who have got the most to worry about, the Death Eaters'll want to kill them. Altogether, then . . ."

Moody passed out small cups of Polyjuice. Mundungus looked as though he might disagree, but drank the potion with the others anyway.

Immediately, and rather grotesquely, they began to transform into Harry. When the Potion had taken full effect, the twins looked at each other and exclaimed, "Wow — we're identical!"

"And just as annoying," Genevieve groaned, putting her head in her hands in mock exasperation.

"That's fair," George admitted.

"I dunno, though," Fred studied himself in a kettle, "I think I'm still better-looking."

"Bah," Fleur exclaimed, also peering at her reflection in the door of the microwave, "Bill, don't look at me — I'm 'ideous."

"Those whose clothes are a bit roomy, I've got smaller here," announced Moody, gesturing to his first sack, "and vice versa. Don't forget the glasses, there's six pairs in the side pocket. And when you're dressed, there's luggage in the other sack."

The fake Harrys immediately commenced rifling through the individual sacks, then, quite immodestly and rather insensitively for Harry's sake, undressing, in front of the others.

"Er — " Genevieve said uncertainly. "I'm not quite sure whether I ought to turn away."

"Please do," Harry replied in a small voice.

Though she no longer witnessed it herself, Genevieve heard several of the other Harrys commenting on his body, and could hazard a guess as to who was speaking.

"I knew Ginny was lying about that tattoo," spoke one who was likely Ron.

"Harry, your eyesight really is awful," one who could only be Hermione informed him.

"It's safe," Lupin called to Genevieve.

She turned back around to see seven identical Harry Potters, each complete with a rucksack and a cage containing (mostly) stuffed snowy owls.

"Good," Moody surveyed the lot in front of him. "The pairs will be as follows: Mundungus will be traveling with me, by broom — "

"Why'm I with you?" a Harry grumbled.

"Because you're the one that needs watching," retorted Moody. "Arthur and Fred — "

"I'm George," claimed the Harry Moody had pointed to. "Can't you even tell us apart when we're Harry?"

"Sorry, George — "

"I'm only yanking your wand, I'm Fred really — "

"Enough messing around!" Moody growled, agitated. "The other one — George or Fred or whoever you are — you're with Remus. Miss Delacour — "

"I'm taking Fleur on a thestral," Bill told him. "She's not that fond of brooms."

Fleur joined him, giving Bill a look that made Genevieve want to claw her eyes out.

"Get a room," she groaned.

"Miss Granger with Kingsley," Moody went on, "again by thestral."

"Which leaves you and me, Ron!" Tonks said excitedly, accidentally knocking over a mug tree during a particularly enthusiastic wave.

"And like I said before, Genevieve will be on a broom, flying between the lot of us, under the Disillusionment Charm, in the event anything goes wrong."

"And hopefully, I'll be redundant," she said earnestly.

"An' you're with me, Harry. That all righ'?" Hagrid addressed him, somewhat nervously. "We'll be on the bike, brooms an' thestrals can't take me weight, see. Not a lot o' room on the seat with me on it, though, so you'll be in the sidecar."

"That's great," Harry said.

"We think the Death Eaters will expect you to be on a broom," Moody told him reassuringly. "Snape's had plenty of time to tell them everything about you he's never mentioned before, so if we do run into any Death Eaters, we're betting they'll choose one of the Potters Who look at home on a broomstick. All right then, I make it three minutes until we're supposed to leave. No point locking the back door, it won't keep the Death Eaters out when they come looking . . . Come on . . ."

While Harry gathered his things, Genevieve hurried into the far corner of the back garden, as far as she could from Harry, so that she wouldn't set off the Trace, and performed the Disillusionment Charm on herself. She rejoined the group, each mounting their rides.

"All right then," Moody was saying. "Everyone ready, please; I want us all to leave at exactly the same time or the whole point of the diversion's lost. Good luck, everyone. See you all in about an hour at the Burrow. On the count of three. One . . . two . . . THREE."

Genevieve and the others took off to the sky, rising higher and higher until —

They were trapped. Thirty Death Eaters, forming a large circle in which all the Order members had unknowingly flown into. They all cast their spells at the same time, shooting green light in every direction.

 _How could they have known?_ Genevieve thought fleetingly before she began silently flinging curses and spells back at them, taking out several, Disarming some, and, with a slight twinge of guilt, sending one falling unconscious back to the ground, where they could only have died, given the vast height they were at.

Her first instinct was to go after Moody, as, just as he had predicted, Voldemort was trailing him, apparently with the full and terrifying ability to fly. But, almost as though he could sense her presence, without looking back at Genevieve, without making any indication that he was aware she was there at all, he shook his head, almost imperceptibly, but with a clear message. _Help the others._

Genevieve shook her head. _Snap out of it,_ she told herself. _Mad-Eye's tough, he can handle it. Look, there's Bill and Fleur._ And she cursed multiple Death Eaters before they could do the same to the soon-to-be-married couple.

She Stunned a Death Eater chasing Fred and Mr. Weasley, narrowly saving them. And she'd sent another flying back to earth after they'd tried attacking Ron and Tonks. Bellatrix had received the Impediment Jinx. Hermione had given a wry smile after noticing that a jinx which, in all senses, ought to have hit Kingsley had been mysteriously blocked.

And then she saw it. In a heart-stopping, terror-creating flash of white light, George's ear was severed. He collapsed against Lupin, blood gushing freely.

"No!" she cried, causing many Death Eaters to turn to the air beside them, shocked, and fling Killing Curses in her direction. She dodged them all, and took off after Lupin and George.

Lupin was struggling to keep a now unconscious George on the broom. Carelessly, Genevieve I did the Disillusionment Charm, so that he knew she was there, and swooped around them protectively, ready to catch George if he fell, and warding off Death Eaters.

She only hoped they would all make it.


	2. Chapter 2: Happy Reunions

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **BladeTheSceptile: I suppose it might in your opinion, but I try to stick to canon, as I find that work as amazing as what J.K. Rowling often does not need much messing with, though I do it anyway. While trying not to differ from her original plot, I do make sure that Genevieve has her own storyline and her own interactions with the characters. Thank you very much for giving your feedback, and I hope you continue to read.**

•~0~•

After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at the secure house and grabbed the Portkey, their hands drenched in blood and holding George.

Blue light flashed. They landed. Harry bolted toward them and helped Lupin carry George into the house. Genevieve followed them silently, watching worriedly as they laid him on the sofa.

Lupin took Harry aside and asked him something, for security, Genevieve guessed. After Harry had given the right answer, Lupin turned to her.

"I suppose I ought to ask you now."

She nodded.

"What words must you say to open and close the Marauder's Map?"

Genevieve gave a small smile. " 'I _solemnly swear that I am up to no good._ ' And ' _Mischief managed._ ' "

He fell back against a cupboard. Similarly, Genevieve collapsed against the opposite wall, not daring to take her eyes off George, whom Mrs. Weasley had bent over.

"Wha' was tha' about?" Hagrid asked indignantly.

"I'm sorry, but I had to check. We've been betrayed. Voldemort knew that Harry was being moved tonight and the only people who could have told him were directly involved in the plan." He looked Harry and Genevieve in the eyes. "One of you might have been an impostor."

"So why aren' you checkin' me?" Hagrid demanded.

"You're half-giant. The Polyjuice Potion is designed for human use only."

Genevieve held no interest in the rest of the conversation, focusing instead on Mrs. Weasley, who was dutifully cleaning George's wound.

Then noise from outside. Harry, Lupin, and Genevieve, figuring she was of more use out there than inside, went out to see two more arrive. Hermione and Kingsley.

Kingsley held his wand to Lupin's chest.

"The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us?"

" 'Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him,' " Lupin responded without hesitation.

Kingsley rounded on Harry. Lupin defended him. "It's him, I've checked!"

Kingsley shot a questioning look at Genevieve, and Lupin nodded her authenticity as well.

"All right, all right!" Kingsley relented. "But somebody betrayed us! They knew, they knew it was tonight!"

"So it seems," Lupin said calmly, "but apparently they did not realize that there would be seven Harrys."

"Small comfort! Who else is back?"

"Only Harry, Hagrid, George, Genevieve, and me. What happened to you?"

Kingsley counted off on his fingers. "Followed by five, injured two, might've killed one, and we saw You-Know-Who as well, he joined the chase halfway through but vanished pretty quickly. Remus, he can — "

"Fly," completed Harry and Genevieve.

"I saw him as he was first going after Mad-Eye," explained Genevieve.

"And I saw him too," Harry finished, "he came after Hagrid and me."

"So that's why he left, to follow you!" realized Kingsley. "I couldn't understand why he'd vanished. But what made him change targets?"

"Harry behaved a little too kindly to Stan Shunpike," Lupin said.

"Stan?" Hermione asked, confused. "But I thought he was in Azkaban?"

Genevieve snorted humorlessly, and Kingsley laughed for similar reasons.

"Hermione," he said, "there's obviously been a mass breakout which the Ministry has hushed up. Travers's hood fell off when I cursed him, he's supposed to be inside too. But what happened to you, Remus? Where's George?"

Genevieve's stomach dropped sickeningly. She forced her eyes shut, hot tears forming.

"He's lost an ear," Lupin told them.

"Lost an — ?" Hermione squeaked.

"Snape's work," Lupin nodded.

" _Snape_?" repeated Harry furiously. "You didn't say — "

Genevieve, too, was shocked, disgusted, and enraged.

"He lost his hood during the chase. Sectumsempra was always a specialty of Snape's. I wish I could say I paid him back in kind, but it took both Genevieve and I everything we had, keeping George on the broom after he was injured, he was losing so much blood."

Genevieve tried to speak, but the words stuck in her throat. None of the others seemed to have much to say either.

Eventually Harry was called back, and Genevieve finally felt the strength to ask what had been gnawing at her for a while now.

"But what made Voldemort switch from Mad-Eye to you?" she asked Kingsley in a small voice.

He had no answer.

Fred and Mr. Weasley. Without even checking that it was Fred, Genevieve ran up to him, a single tear escaping.

"What — what's happened?" he asked urgently.

"I-It's George," she told them. "He's lost an ear."

All color drained from their faces. Kingsley started forward, wand at the ready, but Mr. Weasley shouted, "I'll prove who I am, Kingsley, after I've seen my son, now back off if you know what's good for you!"

She followed them back into the living room, finally stopping beside Fred, both of them looking down at George, who finally began to wake.

"How do you feel, Georgie?" Mr. Weasley asked quietly.

George felt the side of his head, his fingers sliding over the hole where his ear had been hours before.

"Saintlike," came his response.

"What's wrong with him?" Fred rasped, his voice hoarse. "Is his mind affected?"

"Saintlike," George said again, stronger this time. He peered up at them. "You see . . . I'm holy. _Holey_ , mates, geddit?"

Genevieve shook her head, laughing with relief.

"Pathetic," Fred said. "Pathetic! With the whole wide world of ear-related humor before you, you go for _holey_?"

George looked to Genevieve for support, but she shook her head at him.

"He's right, you know," she told him. "It was pitiful. Much worse than you could have done."

"Ah well," George turned his gaze to a sobbing Mrs. Weasley. "You'll be able to tell us apart now, anyway, Mum."

He examined his surroundings.

"Hi, Harry — you are Harry, right?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Well, at least we got you back okay. Why aren't Ron and Bill huddled round my sickbed?"

"They're not back yet, George," Mrs. Weasley said gently. His mischievous smile dissolved.

Little by little, everyone trickled out of the room, leaving Genevieve, Fred, and George alone, which was hardly a good idea.

"So," Fred said, in a clear attempt to recapture the lightness that had been in his tone moments before. "Let's put our heads together, really brainstorm for the good jokes."

Genevieve grinned. "Just as bad, if not worse."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely surprised. "I suppose I'll just have to keep an ear out for some."

"Well, I'll make a few up," George compromised, "and you lot can call me 'Van Gogh.' "

Genevieve grimaced. "I'll stick to 'Your Holeyness,' thank you very much."

"We can't win for losing, can we, Gred?" George asked his twin in mock exasperation.

" 'Fraid not, Forge."

"You two are just insufferable," Genevieve laughed.

"What do you want me to do?" George asked in playful offense. "I'd sacrifice my other ear for the sake of humor, but it doesn't seem to be working too well as is."

Even though it was in no way, shape, or form up to the twins' usual standard of humor, especially as they owned a joke shop, Genevieve laughed, and the twins laughed with her. Maybe what they had endured tonight had made her realize how important it was to laugh. Maybe they had simply cracked and were insane. But in any event, they were still laughing when the others rejoined them, their faces somber.

"What's wrong?" asked Fred. "What's happened? Who's — "

"Mad-Eye," answered Mr. Weasley. "Dead."

"No," Genevieve croaked, her voice barely audible. "No," she repeated, tears streaming freely.

Even though she knew there was nothing she could have done, even though she knew that George was likely alive because of her efforts, one though rang through her mind. _I should never have listened to him. I should have protected him. It's my fault he's dead._

She vaguely recalled accepting the glass of firewhisky Bill offered her, and toasting to Moody. She didn't remember much of the conversation after that, though was she somewhat aware of the fact that she'd elected to stay at the Burrow for the remainder of time until the wedding. But all that really registered in her mind that night was that yet another piece of her mother was gone, and it was her fault.

•~0~•

"Charlie!" Genevieve yelled, bursting into a sprint and charging after the broad, red headed figure that had appeared just outside the Burrow's protective enchantments.

She could hear his laugh as she leapt into his arms, and he spun her around, holding just as tightly to her as she to him, and only setting her down after a long while.

He was just the same as she remembered him, though his arms were noticeably more muscled, with a number of burns and scratches trailing across them.

He grinned widely. "You get more beautiful every time I see you," he said politely as they walked back to the house.

"Yeah, yeah," Genevieve said dismissively, but smiling nonetheless. "Tell me about the dragons."

And so he, eyes dancing, regaled her with stories of each of the dragons at the sanctuary, while Genevieve, fascinated as she was with the prospect of spending one's life studying deagons, simply allowed his voice to soothe her after the tumultuous months she'd lived since she'd last seen him.

At long last, though far too soon, they reached where Mrs. Weasley stood rather menacingly, her wand raised. With one, sweeping look at him, she declared that he was long overdue for a proper haircut, and commenced lovingly shoving him into a chair to do it while Genevieve laughed.

It was, meanwhile, Harry's seventeenth birthday, which meant that the garden was decorately lavishly, from floating 17-emblazoned purple lanterns to bewitched golden tree leaves. Mrs. Weasley had even made a cake in the likeness of a large Snitch. Hagrid, Lupin, and Tonks had arrived for the celebration arrived as well.

"How do I look?" Charlie asked playfully when Mrs. Weasley had finished.

"Well," Genevieve hesitated jokingly. "You _definitely_ don't need a haircut anymore."

"I suppose that's always a good thing," he agreed.

He ran his hand over it. "Wow," was all he said.

"Oh, come on," Genevieve snorted. "It's only hair."

Charlie sighed. "Yes," he said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "It's only hair."

They joined the gathering crowd outside, though Charlie didn't remove his arm, and Genevieve didn't want him to. She'd fancied him since her fifth year, though she decided long ago she'd never be foolish enough to act on such feelings.

"Hey! Charlie! Genevieve!" Hagrid greeted merrily.

"Hi, Hagrid," they replied in unison.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Charlie's arm, but said nothing.

"How's it going?" Charlie asked Hagrid.

"Bin meanin' ter write fer ages. How's Norbert doin'?"

"Norbert? The Norwegian Ridgeback?" Charlie laughed. "We call her Norberta now."

"Wha — Norbert's a girl?"

"Oh yeah."

"How can you tell?" asked Hermione.

Genevieve knew this one. "They're a lot more vicious."

"Oh," said Hermione in a small voice.

Charlie looked back, dropping his arm. Genevieve felt cold now it was gone.

"Wish Dad would hurry up and get here," Charlie said quietly. "Mum's getting edgy."

Genevieve watched as Mrs. Weasley attempted to talk to Madame Delacour (Fleur's parents and sister had arrived the day before), while keeping her eyes glued to the gate.

I think we'd better start without Arthur," Mrs. Weasley finally decided. "He must have been held up at — oh!"

A weasel shot into the yard, landing on the table before announcing, in Mr. Weasley's voice, "Minister of Magic coming with me."

The weasel vanished.

"We shouldn't be here," Lupin said immediately after. "Harry — I'm sorry — I'll explain another time — "

Lupin and Tonks climbed over the fence and out of sight.

Mrs. Weasley was, understandably, shocked. "The Minister — but why — ? I don't understand — "

Moments later, Mr. Weasley and Scrimgeour arrived. Genevieve eyed the Minister suspiciously. He was obviously here for Harry. But at least —

"It's nice to know you haven't brought the same excuse with you this time," she called to him.

Scrimgeour glared at Genevieve for a moment before deciding to ignore her.

"Sorry to intrude," he said, sounding not at all apologetic. "Especially as I can see that I am gate-crashing a party. Many happy returns."

"Thanks," said Harry.

"I require a private word with you. Also with Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger."

"Us?" Ron sounded stunned. "Why us?"

"I shall tell you that when we are somewhere more private. Is there such a place?"

"Yes, of course," Mr. Weasley replied anxiously. "The, er, sitting room, why don't you use that?"

"You can lead the way," Scrimgeour told Ron. "There will be no need for you to accompany us, Arthur."

"If he keeps cornering Harry," Genevieve snarled under her breath to Charlie as Scrimgeour limped away with the trio.

"He's done this before?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, here last Christmas, and Dumbledore's funeral. But it was just Harry, then. I trust the Ministry about as much as I trust Voldemort himself these days," Genevieve admitted. "Though the Ministry's so corrupt now it's almost as though they're one and the same."

"What a way to spend your birthday," commented Charlie.

The birthday celebrations were much sobered after that. When Ron, Hermione, and Harry had returned, they shared with the group the contents of Dumbledore's will, and the group had eaten quickly before disbanding.

Genevieve and Charlie, however, didn't go back into the house. Instead, they strolled over to a tree they'd spent many an afternoon just talking.

"Do you ever wish," Genevieve began, leaning against the trunk of the tree, beside Charlie, "that you lived closer to your family? Especially now, with the war?"

He nodded thoughtfully. "I mean, I love what I do, and I feel useful in my own way, over there. But yeah," he confessed. "Sometimes. You lot are all here, risking your lives, barely surviving battle after battle, and I don't know what's happened until after. Sometimes I don't even know that anything's wrong until after it's over. It's a sickening, sickening feeling, knowing that you or Ron or Ginny or anyone, really, that I loved could die at any moment, and I wouldn't be around. That I might not know until I get a letter, or somehow get hold of the _Daily Prophet._ It can be really, really hard."

"How do you get through it?"

"Well, I-I just have to trust that you and everyone can take care of yourselves, and I have to hope that it's enough. And when I hear that something _has_ happened? It takes every ounce of self-control I've got not to come racing home."

There was a pause in which they both sat there in companionable silence. Then Charlie said, "What about you? How are you feeling in all of this?"

"Some days," Genevieve started, closing her eyes. "Some days, it's like there's not even a war. Those are the good days. I'm lucky. I get to hide behind the magic of Hogwarts and pretend there's nothing wrong. But other days, days when I have to pull students out of class and tell them that they're never going to see their mum or dad again, days when we're in a battle, or we're preparing for one, or when we've just got out of one, days when we've lost good friends or good allies, those are hard. It's like every bit of reality and worry, it all comes crashing back to you, like someone flinging curse after curse after curse at you, and you don't know for sure that you're going to live through it. You don't know that the people you love — "

Genevieve's voice cracked. Charlie placed his arm around her shoulder and took her small hand in his large one. He squeezed gently. She took a breath, and kept going.

"— that they're going to live through it. So yeah" — she wiped an eye — "it's not quite a walk in the park either."

He chuckled slightly. They fell silent again. After a long while, Genevieve said, "I suppose we ought to go in now."

"No," Charlie said softly. He shook his head. "Sorry, what I meant is, let's just stay here a while. Like this." He paused for a moment. "It's nice."

And so they did.


	3. Chapter 3: We All Fall Down

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **BladeTheSceptile: Genevieve is very much my own fictional character, along with her father and mother. But thank you for asking, it almost gives me the impression that she's enough of a character to pass for what J.K. Rowling might have done, which is surely not the case. If that wasn't your intention, I apologize for reading too much into it, and I'll awkwardly proceed to the story. Starting now.**

•~0~•

"Frankly," said Genevieve, studying the seating chart that Mrs. Weasley had — upon Genevieve's offer to help — stuffed into the hands of she, Fred, George, Ron, and Harry (masquerading as a Weasley cousin named Barny with the aid of Polyjuice Potion), "this all seems a bit much for one day. Why go to so much trouble?"

"Hear, hear," agreed Fred, while George jokingly echoed with " 'Ear, 'ear."

"When I get married," Fred decided, "I won't be bothering with any of this nonsense. You can all wear what you like, and I'll put a full Body-Bind Curse on Mum until it's all over."

Genevieve snorted. "You wouldn't be alive for much longer after that."

"She wasn't too bad this morning, considering," said George fairly. "Cried a bit about Percy not being here, but who wants him?"

"He'd have to be brave to show his face around here again," Genevieve pointed out.

"Oh blimey," George said suddenly, straightening the collar of his robes, "brace yourselves — here they come, look."

At the edge of the yard, just beyond the protective boundaries, many beautiful and exotically clothed witches, who could only be relatives of Fleur, began popping up.

"Excellent, I think I see a few veela cousins," said George excitedly. "They'll need help understanding our English customs, I'll look after them . . ."

"Not so fast, Your Holeyness," Fred beat him there, and turned to the giggling girls. "Here — _permettez-moi_ to _assister vous_."

George feigned offense. Genevieve shrugged at him. "You snooze, you lose."

Genevieve spent a good while ushering people to their seats; so many had been invited, it seemed as though the crowd of guests would never end. At last, only a few stragglers remained, whom Genevieve quickly dealt with before catching up with Fred, George, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"Don't take it personally, she's rude to everyone," Ron was saying.

"Talking about Muriel?" George said knowingly. "Yeah, she's just told me my ears are lopsided. Old bat."

"Glad I haven't come across her yet," Genevieve said.

"You haven't?" asked Harry. "She's just come through."

"S'pose I came from the other way and just missed her," Genevieve said, slightly grateful.

"Lucky," muttered Fred. She jabbed him playfully with her elbow.

"I wish old Uncle Bilius was still with us," continued George. "He was a right laugh at weddings."

"Wasn't he the one who saw a Grim and died twenty-four hours later?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"Well, yeah, he went a bit odd toward the end," admitted George.

"But before he went loopy he was the life and soul of the party," Fred informed them. "He used to down an entire bottle of firewhisky, then run onto the dance floor, hoist up his robes, and start pulling bunches of flowers out of his — "

"Yes, he sounds a real charmer," Hermione interrupted quickly and sarcastically. Harry laughed loudly, and even Genevieve coughed suspiciously.

"Never married, for some reason," said Ron serenely.

"You amaze me."

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of Viktor Krum, which flustered both Hermione and Ron, and they hastily took their seats.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the first to walk the aisle, with Bill and Charlie appearing soon after. Charlie looked around from his spot beside Bill, saw Genevieve, smiled widely, and mouthed, "You're stunning."

Genevieve glanced down in surprise at her long sleeveless dress, slightly longer in the back, a deep violet to complement her midnight blue eyes, with wedges to match. She'd left her hair down, and its waves stopped just above her shoulders. She met his eyes again, grinned, and mouthed back, "You're not so bad yourself."

He, as best man, wore dress robes, which were decorated by large white roses in their buttonholes.

Finally, Monsieur Delacour escorted Fleur up the aisle. Though wearing only a simple white dress, she seemed to glow with beauty, and from the instant he saw her, Bill was enraptured. Ginny and Gabrielle, her bridesmaids, were clothed in golden dresses.

"Ladies and gentlemen," began the wizard standing before Bill and Fleur. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls . . ."

"Yes," whispered a woman who Genevieve could only assume was Auntie Muriel loudly, "my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely. But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut."

Ginny winked. Genevieve choked back a laugh.

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle . . . ?"

By now, most of the guests were crying softly, with the notable exception of Hagrid, who trumpeted into his handkerchief.

". . . then I declare you bonded for life."

•~0~•

"All right," Genevieve rolled her eyes as she dragged a miserable looking Lupin away from Tonks so they could talk privately. The ceremony had ended, and the guests were now dancing and talking merrily. "You've been moping significantly more than usual. What's going on?"

"What?" Lupin said distractedly, trying to look Genevieve in the eye. "I haven't the bloodiest idea what you mean." His focus, however, kept drifting back to Tonks — specifically, her stomach.

Genevieve followed his gaze. "Tonks is pregnant, isn't she?" she inquired gently.

Lupin looked for a moment as though he was considering lying, before slumping and nodding.

"And — and you're _not_ happy about this?" asked Genevieve incredulously. "Remus, you're going to be a father!"

"To _what_?" he exploded suddenly. His face was red and strained. "It'll be like me, I'm sure of it! I've burdened a _child_ , an innocent child, with this — this — "

"Calm down," she told him, grabbing hold of his shoulders and shaking him slightly. When at last his face relaxed, she said, "You don't know for sure that the baby will be like you, and I'm positive that you will be an _amazing_ father. And even if — "

Lupin was shaking his head again, almost violently. "Don't you realize what I've done? I've made it so my wife and child must always live a second-rate life, ashamed and looked down upon! It was bad enough, marrying Tonks, I've already made her an outcast!"

"Remus!" cried Genevieve. She pointed to Tonks, who was chatting merrily with Mrs. Weasley and the newlyweds, while Genevieve's father spoke to Mr. Weasley nearby. "Does she look ashamed? Does she look an outcast? Because it seems to me that plenty of people want to know her, all the same, and who cares about those that don't?" He still didn't look reassured. Genevieve took a different approach. "Let me ask you something: Do you love her?"

Lupin made a pained face. "Yes," he whispered at last.

"And she loves you, I know she does. Isn't that all that matters?"

"But — " Lupin protested.

"No," Genevieve said firmly. "No arguing." She shoved him lightly. "Now go dance with your wife."

Lupin sighed and rejoined Tonks, who beamed and led the way to the dance floor.

Genevieve spotted Charlie with Hagrid and started in that direction when —

"Who are you?" demanded Auntie Muriel.

"Er — I'm Genevieve Snow," she replied, bravely attempting a smile.

Auntie Muriel only frowned in response. She scrutinized Genevieve, her face filling with disgust the more she looked at her.

"You're that Genevieve Charles is always blathering on about? Hm, I can't see why. Bushy hair and your dress is far too dramatic, I can hardly look at it."

Unsure how to answer, Genevieve simply remained silent.

"But I suppose Charles has always had bad taste, crooning on about those dragons."

"I've always found it rather interesting," she said quietly.

"And rude to boot!" Auntie Muriel sniffed. "Why, I —"

Genevieve was in the midst of planning her escape when Auntie Muriel got distracted by someone mentioning Rita Skeeter, and, gratefully, Genevieve slipped away.

She found Charlie with Hagrid and another wizard, singing "Odo the Hero" in a corner. She cleared her throat. Charlie broke away from the group, standing up to greet her.

"Ah, it's only the best looking witch here!" Charlie grinned.

"Not according to your Great-Aunt Muriel," Genevieve joked. "I've just met her. 'Bushy hair', 'dramatic dress', and 'rude' as well."

Charlie snorted. "I wouldn't give much thought to her opinions; she's got a lot. Trust me, I envy the man at the end of the aisle when you get married."

Genevieve scoffed. "That won't be for a long time yet, if ever!"

Charlie seemed amused. "I definitely wouldn't rule out the possibility, I'm sure there's plenty of blokes who have got their eyes on you."

"I wouldn't be interested," she answered honestly.

"Really?"

"No, I'm not looking for romance."

"Would you still be willing to dance?" he asked suddenly, nodding at her.

Genevieve was taken aback slightly. Then she realized that Charlie was no longer looking at her. Instead, he was looking at someone behind her, and he'd been alluding to their obvious motives. She turned around to see Viktor Krum.

Krum cleared his throat, having apparently not heard Charlie, and smiled at Genevieve.

"Vould you like to dance?"

"Oh," she said, startled. It wasn't every day, after all, that an internationally famous Quidditch player asked her to dance. "Er — no."

"No?" Krum repeated, surprised. "You do not vish to dance vith me?"

"No," Genevieve said, more resolutely. "Thank you, but no."

Brooding once again, Krum walked off. Charlie was shocked.

"Why'd you say no?" he demanded. "That was Viktor Krum, the famous Quidditch player — and Seeker, no less — remember?"

"Yes, I do," she said defensively. Her expression softened. "But I was hoping that another legendary Seeker would ask me to dance."

"But — oh!" Charlie laughed. He made a show out of offering his hand, bowing mock-formally as he did. "Would you be so kind as to dance with me?"

Genevieve laughed. "I would."

She followed him into the swarm of people just as a waltz began to play. They took the appropriate positions, moving as though they'd danced together for years.

"You're not half bad at this," Charlie said, impressed.

"Well, I did get some practice at the Yule Ball," she admitted.

"Ah yes, I remember George telling me about how often you stepped on his feet," smirked Charlie.

Genevieve gasped and kicked him lightly.

"I would say you've improved greatly, if that's true," he aimed for a compliment.

"Thank you."

As they continued to dance, song after song, Genevieve couldn't help smiling like an idiot. It was all she could do to hope moments like these would last forever.

Charlie interrupted her thoughts. "Do you have any idea what she's doing?"

He gestured to a girl with blonde hair and bright yellow dress robes who was dancing rather eccentrically, her arms high in the air and waving, though occasionally they would swat at something.

Genevieve laughed. "That's Luna, she's a bit odd, but one of the best people I know. She's Ginny's age, and I believe she's trying to get rid of a Wrackspurt."

This only stood to confuse Charlie more.

"What's a Wrackspurt?"

"Er — " Genevieve floundered around for a decent explanation of Luna and her father, but fell short. "I couldn't tell you," she confessed. "But why don't we ask her? Luna!"

Luna opened her eyes and saw them. "Oh hello, Genevieve," she said in her dreamy voice. "And — ?"

"Charlie." He extended a hand, but Luna simply smiled.

"Are you having fun, Luna?" Genevieve asked kindly.

"Oh yes," she said. "I was bitten by a gnome earlier!" She showed them the bite.

"Oh," Charlie said. "Do you want to put anything on it?"

"No, it's fine," she said serenely. "Daddy says gnome saliva is enormously beneficial. He's done a lot of research on Gernumbli magic."

Charlie seemed to want to ask, but Genevieve knew better than to question Luna or her father. She quickly asked, "Would you show us how to dance like you were? It looked like you were having fun."

"Of course," she said brightly, but before she could, a Patronus swooped onto the dance floor.

Genevieve, Charlie, and even Luna turned to look at it. The lynx, in the deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt, told them:

 _"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."_

The protective enchantments had been broken; cloaked and masked figures were appearing in all directions, and guests were Disapparating in the chaos.

"Get to safety!" Charlie shouted to her.

"Like hell!" Genevieve shot back.

They raised their wands at the same time, and yelled, _"Protego!"_ together as the Death Eaters advanced.

Two thoughts echoed through Genevieve's mind. She had to find her father, and she had to make sure Ron, Harry, and Hermione escaped. She knew who the Death Eaters had come for, and she had to ensure they never got him.

"Ron! Ron, where are you?" Genevieve heard Hermione calling. If she wasn't looking for Harry as well, he must be with her.

On the other side of her, Ron was looking for them too. She shunted him in the direction of Hermione's voice and told them all one word: "Go!"

And just like that, they'd Disapparated. Now, her father.

A Death Eater was approaching.

 _"Stupefy!"_ she yelled, still frantically searching for him. _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ she shot at another.

And then he was there, dueling Death Eaters of his own. She rushed to his aid.

For what seemed like an eternity, they were there, flinging spells as more Death Eaters arrived and more guests vanished.

Finally, when it seemed the Death Eaters had searched the wedding and the Burrow, all those who had remained were rounded up and questioned.

"Where is Harry Potter?" asked her interrogator aggressively.

"I haven't the foggiest idea," she told them truthfully.

"When was the last time you saw him, then?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Answer the question!"

"I prefer not to be shouted at!"

Seething, the interrogator took out a small clear bottle, yanked open Genevieve's mouth, and poured some in.

 _Well, that's great_ , she thought, _I can finally put to use all the Occlumency I've been studying._

"Now," they said with renewed control, "when did you last see Harry Potter?"

Genevieve, concentrating hard, fought the effects of the Veritaserum, though on the outside it simply seemed that she was struggling not to answer.

"Well?"

In the best imitation of monotony she could muster, she replied, "When I was involved in the plan to safely transport him."

It was no use lying that she wasn't involved. By removing the Disillusionment Charm that night, they knew she was. And it would be better that they believed her to be telling the truth.

"Where was he taken after his arrival at the Tonks' house? Or is he still there?"

"I don't know," she told them. "I wasn't told. It was safer if only one person besides Harry knew the whole plan."

"Who was it?"

She glared at them, eyes flashing with anger. "Mad-Eye Moody."

"But Moody wasn't the one transporting Potter, Hagrid was."

"And Hagrid's _only_ job was to transport him. He didn't go with Harry, of course. Who'd trust that oaf with the Chosen One?" Though she knew she was keeping him safe by saying this, it pained her to speak ill of Hagrid.

"Is Potter supposed to meet anyone in the future? To check in or receive supplies?"

"His only contact was Mad-Eye Moody. Now he's on his own."

"And what of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley? It seems odd that neither of them would be in attendance at the wedding, especially as Ron is a brother of the groom."

"I haven't seen Hermione since that night either, and I'm surprised you don't know that Ron's got spattergroit. He's bedridden."

"And why were you in attendance, if not to look after Potter?"

"I'm a close family friend . . ."

The questions continued for hours, and Genevieve improvised as she went, till finally they released her.

"Genevieve!" Charlie sprang up and grabbed hold of her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," she assured him. "How is everyone? Your parents, Bill and Fleur, the twins, Ginny?"

"Everyone's fine, some of them are still being interrogated."

"And my father?"

"He's just over there." Charlie pointed to where her father was talking seriously to Mr. Weasley.

Genevieve hugged him. "I've got to go."

He hugged her tightly back. "I know. Be safe, and if you need help, I'm only in Romania."

She laughed weakly. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

She grabbed hold of her shaking father, and, after saying goodbye to Mr. Weasley, they Disapparated home.

Or what was once home.

Windows had been shattered, furniture upheaved, papers strewn about. The Death Eaters had ransacked the place, looking for any trace of Harry.

Genevieve and her father exchanged looks and began to clean.

•~0~•

She read the same article of the _Daily Prophet_ , over and over again. The words didn't change. It still announced that the Ministry was putting into place a Muggle-born Register. It still accused Muggle-borns of stealing magic. It still posed great danger to them.

Her father walked into the room, not knowing the fate that awaited him. He paused when he saw Genevieve's expression, not daring to breathe.

She held the newspaper out to him. When he finished reading, he looked at her.

"It's almost time," she said.


	4. Chapter 4: Run

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

•~0~•

"He _what_?" Genevieve was floored, and angry. It was true that it didn't take much to cause her to lose control of her temper these days, what with all the fear and worry caused by the Ministry's fall and the new Wizarding order that had been created as a result, along with the new Hogwarts policies, but the fact that Lupin had abandoned his pregnant wife, who was family to Genevieve, helped in no way, shape, or form.

Tonks was in tears. "H-He said that the baby would be better off without a father of whom it must always be ashamed. He said — "

"That absolute git," growled Genevieve. "I've got half a mind to track him down and wring his neck. In fact, if that prat shows his face around here again, I'll — "

There was a knock at the door.

Suspiciously, Genevieve called, "Who is it?"

"I-It's Remus Lupin. I'm a werewolf, I was one of four creators of the Marauder's Map, on which I am Moony, and I have made what is undoubtedly the biggest mistake of my life. I know it's you, Genevieve, and I know Dora is listening too, and you both have every reason to hate me right now, and I'm truly sorry, I know I can never make up what I've done, but I'm here, I'm back, and I'm hoping it's not too late to receive a second chance."

Fury somewhat dissipating, Genevieve looked to Tonks, who gave a weak nod. She opened the door and glared at him.

"Before I civilly step out of the room, may I just ask in what world leaving your child before it is even born is morally better than creating it?"

Lupin didn't meet her eyes.

"That's what I thought," she said coldly before striding out of the room and colliding with Ted Tonks, sending a familiar newspaper and a questionnaire to the floor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She knelt down to pick it up. "The Muggle-born Register," Genevieve noted with disgust. "I've been trying to get my dad to run before the 'Ministry' ever has a chance to use it against him, but he absolutely refuses," she explained. "Seems to have the notion that he wants to look that nasty Umbridge woman in the eye as she sentences him to Azkaban. He's far too proud for his own good. Even registered without telling me, so I couldn't try to stop him doing it."

"I refuse to register on principle," he told her. "I won't participate in something so corrupt and elitist."

"I suppose it won't matter, in the end," mused Genevieve cynically. "They come after you anyway. But still, running is better than rotting in Azkaban, I say; you've at least got a chance."

Ted nodded. "I reckon I'll have to run, sooner or later, but I plan on sticking around as long as I can."

"And I plan to spend every moment I've got to convince my dad to run. It might be a bit selfish, wanting him to live, but he's protected me all my life, and he ought to protect himself now."

Lupin and Tonks emerged from the other room, and Ted stiffened noticeably.

"Dad," began Tonks tentatively, "we both talked it over, and I've forgiven him. He just needed to explain his thinking, and I don't condone what he did, but I understand why he did it."

"Are you sure, Dora?" asked Ted skeptically. "What's going to keep him from leaving again? Your blind trust?"

"Dad, please," Tonks adopted a pleading look. "He won't leave again, I'm sure of it."

Though still wary, Ted nodded. "If it's important to you," he relented.

"It is," said Tonks earnestly.

Lupin approached Genevieve. "And I was hoping you could forgive me too. I know you tried to talk sense into me, and I didn't listen. The way I acted was unforgivable."

"What changed your mind?" she demanded to know.

"Well, Harry chewed me out and called me a coward, and I wasn't happy to hear that at the time, but I reckon he's right."

"You talked to Harry?" Genevieve dropped her harsh demeanor. "How are they? They made it out safely?"

"Yes, they're at Grimmauld Place for the moment, and they seemed fine, for the moment. But Dumbledore gave them a mission, and I'll be damned if they don't risk everything to complete it."

"Yeah, that sounds like them, I'm afraid."

They stood for a moment in silence, hoping that the three would survive this mission, and that it would take them closer to stopping Voldemort. Finally Lupin changed the subject.

"Are you going back to Hogwarts? It certainly won't be the same."

"No, it won't," Genevieve admitted. "Likely they'll stuff the place with as many Death Eaters as they can get away with, and not to mention that attendance is now compulsory. But if all those children are going to be forced to go, I'd better be there to help protect them."

"And the Blood Status?"

"I hate it, but I'll teach who I can. I couldn't teach anyone if I was in hiding, Azkaban, or dead."

•~0~•

Snape, _headmaster._ And the Carrows. Genevieve had known that Hogwarts would be different, but she had never expected this. She had witnessed the severity of the situation the day before, when term began, but when McGonagall had heard that Genevieve's father had his trial today, she had urged her to go and talk him out of attending.

"If he goes," said McGonagall, "he'll be sent straight to Azkaban."

And so here she was, hurtling through the halls of the Ministry of Magic, hoping against hope to catch her father before he reached that court chamber. And she was so focused that she barely noticed the man in front of her, his nose buried in a thick pile of papers, until she knocked him over.

"I'm so sorry," breathed Genevieve, gathering his papers for him, still only partially paying attention. "I keep doing this."

"Perhaps it would help if you didn't stampede through the building like an overweight bull with two legs," sniffed a horribly familiar, infuriatingly pompous voice.

That was a mistake. Genevieve stood and glowered at him, shoving the papers, none too gently, back into his hands. Percy, shocked as he was to see Genevieve staring back at him, glowered as well.

"At least I know when to admit my mistakes," she said venomously, "and not to blame my family, because you're lucky to have a mother, and one that loves you at that. Do you know how you've made her cry? Do you know how many times everyone has had to be there to comfort a mother whose own child abandoned her? Too many. You missed your brother's wedding, which got attacked. That same brother was ravaged by Greyback mere months before. Your father was almost killed two years ago. George lost an ear, saving someone's life.

"And what have you been doing? You've been hiding behind a desk. Never calling, never checking in, never even acknowledging the people who raised you, who dealt with your imperfections and loved you anyway, simply because you were family. What sort of an accomplishment is that?"

"We'll leave my personal life out of this, if you please!" said Percy hotly, though Genevieve thought she saw a flicker of pain behind his eyes.

"What are you going here anyway?" he demanded.

"Oh, you know, I've come to witness your beloved Dolores Umbridge chuck my father into Azkaban just because he's got magic."

"I-I'm sorry," sputtered Percy.

Genevieve sighed. "Look, what I said was out of line, and I'm sorry for it. I'm just on edge, is all. He's my family."

Percy nodded, for once seeming to understand. "It's all right. But . . ." he paused, apparently debating whether he ought to continue, before eventually deciding to. "Is everybody okay? No one's hurt, or — or — ?"

Genevieve looked at him curiously. "They're fine. I mean, Ron's got spattergroit, but I reckon he'll be all right soon enough."

"Yeah," Percy echoed, "he'll be all right . . ."

He then snapped out of it, for he said briskly, "Anyway, I need to deliver these papers, and you've got several floors to go down as well. We might as well share a lift."

"All right," agreed Genevieve.

So they entered, Percy once again immersed in his papers. Genevieve waved sheepishly at Mr. Weasley, who was standing stonily beside an uncharacteristically silent Runcorn, whom Genevieve knew to have ratted out several Muggle-borns.

The second Percy saw his father, he turned bright red, opting to escape the lift at the soonest opportunity. Runcorn tried to leave as well, but Mr. Weasley stopped him.

"One moment, Runcorn. I hear you laid information about Dirk Cresswell."

"Sorry?" replied Runcorn vaguely.

"Don't pretend, Runcorn," he said harshly. "You tracked down the wizard who faked his family tree, didn't you?"

"I — so what if I did?"

"So Dirk Cresswell is ten times the wizard you are. And if he survives Azkaban, you'll have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, his sons, and his friends — "

Runcorn cut him off. "Arthur, you know you're being tracked, don't you?"

"Is that a threat, Runcorn?"

"No, it's a fact! They're watching your every move — "

Mr. Weasley promptly exited the lift. Genevieve exhaled sharply.

"Well, now that that's over," she said impatiently, "why are you here, Harry?"

"W-What? I d-don't follow," stammered Runcorn. He gave up. "How did you know?"

"Oh, just your expression."

"Funny, I've been getting that a lot lately," he commented.

"The way you tried to warn Arthur just then was a dead giveaway, though," she added thoughtfully. "But no matter. Whatever you're doing: do they know you're here?"

"If they don't, they will soon," he told her.

"Very well. I've just got to get my dad out of here first, okay? Give me a bit of time to do that, to get him running, so he doesn't get trapped in the crossfire."

"Okay," Harry promised.

"You'd better go ahead and put on your Cloak," she advised him. "I've seen the posters. You're Undesirable No. 1."

"I know," he said heavily. He disappeared under the Cloak."

"Whatever you're trying to do, all of it, not just today," said Genevieve to, apparently, thin air, "good luck."

And when the lift stopped, she shot down the hall, grabbing her father just as he was about to reach the chamber and dragging him away.

"Genevieve!" He struggled against her grip. "I've already told you: I'm going, and nothing you say could change my mind!"

"What if I told you that Harry is here, and the Ministry knows, or is about to, and if you stay, everyone here — including me, because I'm not leaving without you — is likely going to be in significant danger?"

"Then let's go," he decided quickly. Genevieve know he'd do anything to make sure she was safe.

They made it to the Atrium just in time; the Ministry was just realizing it had intruders, and flocks of workers were racing toward them. Stunning several of them, Genevieve and her father barely made it into the nearest fireplace.

As soon as they reached home, Genevieve stuffed into his hands a preprepared bag, which she had put an Undetectable Extension Charm on. It contained the bare minimum: food, water, a tent, and clothes.

"You won't have your wand," she told him. "It's still at the Ministry. But you were raised by Muggle parents, and I suppose you remember how to take care of yourself without magic. I hate that you can't cast protective enchantments, though."

"I'm not fussed about that. I'm more worried about you."

"I can take care of myself," she assured him.

"Won't you want to know that I'm alive?"

Thinking fast, Genevieve grabbed the first book she saw. She smiled sadly when she read the title, and held it out to him.

"This book was the first book I read on my first ride to Hogwarts, as an eleven year old on the Hogwarts express. It was the book I read when I first truly entered this world, and I want you to send me a page of it every week. Use different birds, of course, and don't try to write letters: they can be intercepted, but if you send me a page every week, I'll know you're alive."

And so she thrust _To Kill A Mockingbird_ into his hands. She gave him a quick hug, tears falling freely, and said, "Now go. Run."

He nodded, crying silently. "I love you."

"I love you too."

•~0~•

 **A/N: What did you think? As a writer, I'm never satisfied with my work, but I'd appreciate your feedback.**


	5. Chapter 5: Blizzard

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **I wanted to thank BladeTheSceptile and His-Lady-Outlaw for the consistently kind reviews and their comments about my stories. And yes, my chapters will likely be shorter as a result of the actual book, _Deathly Hallows_ , following Harry, Ron, and Hermione's actions and not those who stayed behind, which makes it harder to create a realistic story of what happened. **

**Additionally, I would like to explain that, though it may not be as thoroughly explained in the movies as it was in the books, known Muggle-borns were rounded up and interrogated/sent to Azkaban/given the Dementor's Kiss during the period between the Ministry's fall and Voldemort's defeat, as they were accused of "stealing magic."**

 **Also, _To Kill A Mockingbird_ is indeed a questionable read for an eleven-year-old, though someone like Genevieve might have understood at least bits of it at that age (and she didn't have much to choose from, as these were simply books her father had given her from his childhood), and I find that the meaning of a book changes every time I read it. Therefore by now, Genevieve might have a more complete understanding of the novel. **

•~0~•

"Today, in preparation of what you might see on your O.W.L.s, which I am compelled to remind you, you are to take later this year, we will begin working on Vanishing Spells," lectured Genevieve to a class of harassed-looking fifth years. "These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until N.E.W.T. level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your O.W.L. — "

 _"Hem, hem,"_ interrupted a sickeningly familiar voice.

 _No_ , Genevieve thought wildly. She closed her eyes for a moment, mustered up every bit of professionalism she could manage, and turned to face Dolores Umbridge.

"Oh hello, Dolores," she said sweetly. "I must say I am surprised to see you here; I assumed the continued presence of centaurs in the Forbidden Forest might have kept you away."

The students — and a stony faced McGonagall — snorted. Umbridge turned a rather satisfying red.

"Well," she told Genevieve huffily, "I am afraid that I must follow where my career — Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, I might remind you — takes me. And today, it has brought me to you, Miss Snow."

"Oh really?" Genevieve raised her eyebrows.

"Yes," she sniffed. "You and I must have a little chat."

"Very well," relented Genevieve. She nodded at McGonagall, who stood to take over the class, and followed Umbridge out the door.

"Where might there be a nice place for us to speak?" inquired Umbridge.

"My office," answered Genevieve, leading the way.

When they had reached it, and each taken their respective seats, Umbridge conjured a glass.

"Now then," she said pleasantly. "What would you like to drink?"

"Something without Veritaserum, preferably," retorted Genevieve knowingly.

Umbridge giggled unconvincingly, the glass vanishing behind her. "What a silly idea! Why on earth would I do that?"

"Because, as the both of us know, you haven't come for a cozy little catch-up, you're planning on interrogating me, and it's a lot easier when I have got no choice but to tell the truth."

"Why, I never — " declared Umbridge indignantly.

"— never what?" Genevieve cut across her. "Never imagined that there might be someone who was unafraid of your little stunts? Or not stupid enough to fall for your tricks?"

"We are getting away from the topic at hand," said Umbridge loudly.

"And what is that topic?" asked Genevieve.

"Well, I suppose I might as well come right out and ask it," giggled Umbridge. _"Where is Harry Potter?"_

"I don't know," answered Genevieve honestly. "And I've already answered these questions."

Umbridge seemed to want to press further, but a hard stare from Genevieve plainly told her that she wasn't going to get more answer than that.

"Very well," she sighed. "You will kindly tell me the whereabouts of your father, Noah Snow."

"I haven't got a clue where my father is," spat Genevieve, "but hopefully it's far from you."

Umbridge was appalled. "Miss Snow, I ask you to consider your position. Your father failed to attend his hearing, though we have evidence that both he and you were present at the Ministry at the time."

"Yes, and we were told by Albert Runcorn that we were free to leave," reminded Genevieve, drawing from what Mr. Weasley had told her later that day when he had gotten home to find Genevieve engulfed in a hug by Mrs. Weasley.

"Ah, but that Runcorn was an impostor, and it is a known fact that your father does not come from wizard descent. He is still obligated to report himself to the Ministry."

"Well, that's great," said Genevieve sarcastically. "Except you're having a bit of a problem trying to find him, aren't you?"

"But you know where he is, don't you?" Umbridge leaned forward.

"I've already told you I don't, and I wouldn't tell a toad like you if I did."

"Your father has stolen magic, Miss Snow! He must be apprehended! He is a criminal, and likely you are just as guilty, for helping him!"

"And you're a right lunatic for believing that," said Genevieve disdainfully. "But in any case, now that we've flung accusations at one another, though mine is doubtless more accurate than yours, may I get back to teaching my students?"

Umbridge smiled, resembling a toad more greatly than before.

"Oh no, I don't think that will do at all." She paused, taking out her wand and stroking it lovingly with a chubby finger. "I don't think you quite understand the severity of this situation, Miss Snow. But maybe . . . " Umbridge looked at Genevieve with a stomach-turning grin. "Maybe I can motivate you."

She raised her wand and pointed it at Genevieve, who reached desperately for hers.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_ Umbridge Disarmed her easily. Genevieve glowered at her. "The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue . . . yes, yes, a fine idea indeed . . ."

"Miss Snow?" To Umbridge's annoyance and Genevieve's relief, Ginny barged in. "Professor McGonagall said you wanted to see — HEY! What d'you think you're doing?"

She had entered to see Umbridge panting with excitement, her wand trained menacingly on Genevieve, Genevieve's wand in the other hand.

"Oh," said Umbridge, flustered. "I suppose I merely forgot myself . . ." She backed away and left the room immediately, dropping Genevieve's wand as she went.

"Here you go," Ginny picked up the wand and handed it back to Genevieve. "What was that horrid woman trying to do?"

"It doesn't matter now," Genevieve told her, "as long as we don't give her the chance to do it again." She thought for a moment. "So McGonagall sent you here?"

"Yeah," Ginny said. "I reckon she wanted me to check on you. It's a good thing she did, or else Merlin knows what she might have done to you."

"She won't be the only one," said Genevieve. "Be careful of the Carrows, Ginny. I've heard what Amycus Carrow has got planned for his Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which is now just Dark Arts."

"I just wish there was something we could do about it," said Ginny.

"Maybe there is," Genevieve said vaguely.

When Ginny looked at her in surprise, she said, "Ask Luna and Neville what they think about reviving the D.A."

Ginny grinned.

•~0~•

"How was your detention?" asked Genevieve calmly.

Neville laughed quietly. "Probably the most fun I've had at Hogwarts this year."

"Yes," said Luna serenely. "It was nice."

One of their first acts in the resurrected D.A. was to try and steal the sword of Gryffindor, a plan that failed spectacularly, but, surprisingly, the only punishment Snape had given Ginny, Luna, and Neville was to do some work for Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. It was a much kinder punishment than the Carrows had wanted to give.

They were in charge of discipline for the school now, and regularly had the Dark Arts students practice the Cruciatus Curse on those who had earned detentions.

Several students, like members of the D.A., however, refused to do it, which led to their own punishment. The teachers did their part. Unless there was no way around it, they often gave out no punishment, knowing that to send the students to the Carrows would be sending them to torture.

And often at night, when the D.A. met, McGonagall and Genevieve would be working to ensure that they weren't caught. And it was through them, the rebellious students and staff, that the true spirit of Hogwarts was kept intact. Snape and the Carrows weren't wholly respected by either, and they were met with resistance whenever they tried to force new beliefs and practices on the students.

And it was this that inspired Genevieve to do what she considered her part for the time being. She'd told McGonagall, who fully supported the idea that Genevieve had first gotten from Fred.

And so, every once in a while during the evening she was mysteriously absent from Hogwarts. McGonagall explained it away to the suspicious Carrows, saying, "Miss Snow is completing personal tasks on my behalf. She is using her own time, outside of any classes she teaches. But if you have a problem with it, you can do the work yourselves, but I must warn you, it is quite menial work. She is rather noble for doing it so willingly."

But in actuality, Genevieve spent these evenings talking to Lee, Kingsley (who had been on the run since early winter after breaking an apparent Taboo on Voldemort's name that alerted Death Eaters to any Order Members and fighting his way out), and Lupin. Lee had started the secret radio program to tell people the truth about what was going on, and they all contributed to it as regularly as they could.

Lee — under the name "River" — hosted the program, while Kingsley (Royal) gave updates on the new Wizarding order and its effect on the Muggle world, Lupin (Romulus) hosted the segment "Pals of Potter", and Genevieve told the listeners of the changes at Hogwarts, from Snape and the Carrows' cruel mistreatment of the students, to the true content and intent of the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies classes, to the D.A.'s latest actions, which ensured that hope still existed in these darker times. She was called "Blizzard."

•~0~•

 **A/N: Edit for BladeTheSceptile: The Muggle-borns (for review, wizards and witches who weren't born to families of magical blood) aren't actually stealing magic. That's impossible. But since the Ministry has fallen and Voldemort is now in control of it, this is their excuse for going after them, because Voldemort is not out in the open. People outside of the Death Eaters and the Order don't know what's really going on. It's a better plan for the Death Eaters to instill fear and mistrust among the Wizarding Community, hence how they are blaming Dumbledore's death on Harry, marking him as Undesirable No. 1.**


	6. Chapter 6: Night Without Moon

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **Sorry for the small delay in chapters; I was working out the storyline, and of course story ideas come to me out of order, so at the moment I've got the Battle of Hogwarts halfway written already, while I'm writing this chapter off the top of my head, based on timeline and structure.**

 **I will be extremely busy next week, however, so I wouldn't be too hopeful about frequent updates.**

 **BladeTheSceptile: I did go back and provide an explanation to your questions at the end of the last chapter that is nearly straight from the books, as at the time I wasn't sure when I was next going to update. Thanks for reviewing.**

•~0~•

"Miss Snow?"

Genevieve looked up to see Ginny, lingering after her class. She smiled kindly.

"Do you need any help with the D.A.? I know it's a lot harder now that Snape and the Carrows've reinstated Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four."

Along with banning known members from Hogsmeade, Snape and the Carrows had taken every possible measure to prevent the D.A.'s reform, which included banning any groups of three or more people that had not been approved, but they might as well have done nothing. The students continued to openly defy and altogether refuse to respect this new authority, while the teachers did nothing to aid their headmaster or Deputy Heads, preferring to watch.

"No, actually," said Ginny. "I wanted to make sure you were coming home to the Burrow for Christmas."

Genevieve scoffed. "Where else would I go?"

It was true. With her father on the run, the only place outside of Hogwarts — though Hogwarts itself rarely felt like home anymore — that she could truly call home was the Burrow. Ginny knew this, of course, and she had wanted to make sure Genevieve knew she was always welcome there, that she always had family in them.

"Good," grinned Ginny. "Now about that offer for help . . ."

"Yeah, yeah," sighed Genevieve in a mock exasperated tone. "Just save me a seat in your compartment."

•~0~•

The ride was mainly a combination of playing Exploding Snap, talking about the D.A., and expressing relief at going home, for once. Luna mentioned that her father was attempting to recreate Ravenclaw's lost diadem, a fact that was not pushed by Neville, Ginny, or Genevieve, and all seemed well. That was, until —

The train stopped abruptly. Rapid footsteps echoed through the corridor, coming closer. Their compartment door was pried open.

Two cloaked figures entered, one seizing Luna by the arm and the other aiming threateningly at the remaining group to prevent anyone trying to save her.

Luna struggled against her captor, who jeered openly at her. She reached for her wand, but he yanked it harshly from her hand.

"Guess your daddy oughtn't've written all that rubbish about Harry Potter," he taunted. "Maybe this'll teach him to keep his mouth shut and his quill under control!"

Throwing caution to the wind, Genevieve stood up. The other Death Eater started forward, but Genevieve nodded at him, and Neville shouted _"Protego!"_ The Death Eater stumbled back at the force of the spell, and Genevieve stepped forward, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"You're not taking Luna," she told them firmly. "You're not taking any of my students."

"Yeah?" sneered the one tightly gripping Luna's arm. "You might want to focus more on protecting yourself."

Just then, from behind, Genevieve was hit with wrenching pain, causing her to scream in agony. She collapsed to the floor, and the Death Eater stepped over her, his wand still pointing viciously at her.

"Should I kill her?" he asked, excitement edging his voice.

"No," said Luna's holder with disdain. "She's not worth the trouble."

"Speak — for — yourself!" gasped Genevieve, using all the effort she had to raise her wand. _"Relashio!"_

He was thrown backward, away from Luna, who used the opportunity to grab her wand and run. He chased after her, while the other turned to Genevieve.

"You're becoming a right pain," he growled. "It would serve us all well if you weren't in the way! _Avada Kedavra_!"

 _"Stupefy!"_ shouted Genevieve back, dodging the jet of green light, which shot through Neville's previously imposed shield and caused his beloved _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ to burst into green flames.

The Death Eater fell, rigid as a board, and Genevieve, with Ginny's help, quickly dumped him out of the train before informing the conductor what had happened. When she finally made it back, she told Neville, "I'm sorry about your _Mimbulus mimbletonia._ "

"It's fine," he said, slightly unsteady. "Do you — do you think Luna escaped?"

Ginny shook her head. "I saw her out the window. He'd caught her."

"Damn," muttered Genevieve, "all because of a few articles her father printed."

"Where do you think they'll take her?" asked Neville.

"She'll probably be kept in Azkaban," admitted Genevieve. When he looked worried, she hastened to add, "But she'll be fine. Luna can take care of herself. Who knows? Maybe she'll teach the other prisoners about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks."

They laughed weakly.

When they arrived back at King's Cross, Mrs. Weasley was aghast at the sight of them.

"Oh Genevieve dear!" she clucked. "What's happened to you lot? You're just shaking!"

"Mum," said Ginny softly, "Luna's been taken."

"Oh my," said Mrs. Weasley, shocked. She turned back to Genevieve. "And I suppose you tried to fight them off?"

Genevieve nodded.

"She Stunned one," Ginny pointed out, "and gave Luna a bit of time to run, but — "

"But it wasn't enough," finished Genevieve.

"Nonsense," dismissed Mrs. Weasley, wrapping her in a hug. "You were a right hero, and I won't hear a word otherwise."

"I assumed it would only be a matter of time before something like this happened," said Mr. Weasley seriously. " _The Quibbler_ was being taken seriously; too many people were beginning to believe it."

He thought for a moment. "Really, it's only a matter of time before we'll have to go into hiding. We're the biggest blood-traitor family there is."

"Oh Arthur, we can talk about this later!" insisted Mrs. Weasley. "Ginny and Genevieve have got enough to worry about as it is, and it's the Christmas holidays anyway!"

•~0~•

Mrs. Weasley seemed determined to make this Christmas as cheery as ever, despite the sobering absence of Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Bill and Fleur had also opted not to come, saying that they wanted to spend Christmas — the first holiday after their marriage — alone ("I reckon it was just an excuse for them to escape Celestina Warbeck," Ginny had muttered quietly to Genevieve). And Charlie hadn't been able to come, either.

On the bright side, the twins were still coming. And Lupin and Tonks had happily accepted the Weasley's offer, coming Christmas Eve.

"Look at you!" Genevieve had exclaimed in surprise when a very pregnant Tonks walked in, followed by Lupin, who looked about as happy as Genevieve had ever seen him, having finally accepted the truth that they all loved him for who he was.

"I know," whined Tonks, feigning disgust at herself. "I look like a beached whale! And don't even get me started on the morning sickness . . ."

"Have you tried peppermint tea?" she suggested, remembering her father's old stories about her mother's pregnancy.

Tonks rolled her eyes playfully. "In the name of Merlin's most baggy Y fronts, you're just like my bloody mother! Don't worry, it's only _all_ that I've drank for months!"

Genevieve laughed. "Well, how about some hot chocolate as a nice change?"

"As long as it's hot," agreed Tonks, "and with lots of chocolate! And whipped cream!" she called as Genevieve left for the kitchen.

Genevieve returned with three piping hot mugs, each one filled nearly to the brim and topped with tall swirls of whipped cream. She gave one to Tonks and offered Lupin one as well, which he gratefully accepted.

Tonks emptied her mug nearly immediately, getting some whipped cream on her nose. She went to the kitchen to get more.

"I'm guessing it's a craving of hers," said Genevieve to Lupin, who shook his head, laughing.

"You'd be right," he told her. "I don't even know how much chocolate she's gone through in the past month. It's lucky that I happen to carry quite a bit," he joked.

"How can I forget? You passed out chocolate to every student on the train!"

"And it's lucky I did," he said stubbornly. "But honestly, I don't know what'll cost more money: Dora's cravings or this baby."

"You better be nice!" said Tonks, now on her third cup. She took a large sip. "You never want to make an enemy out of a Metamorphmagus, much less your wife."

"She's got a point," said Genevieve.

"You ought to watch out too," said Tonks jokingly. "Maybe I'll pretend to be you sometime, get you into all kinds of trouble. I might even make a visit to Charlie," she added teasingly.

"All right, all right," Genevieve gave up. "I apologize."

Lupin muttered under his breath about "being heavily pregnant and still threatening people."

"What was that, Remus?" said Tonks loudly.

"Nothing," he replied, flashing Genevieve a smirk.

Fred strode over to them just as Mrs. Weasley began to play Celestina Warbeck's "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love."

"Care to dance?" he grinned mischievously, holding his hand out grandiosely and waggling his eyebrows.

Genevieve laughed. "Sure."

And without further ado, he danced her exuberantly over to where George and Ginny were waiting impatiently, the deck of Exploding Snap already out.

"Got any of those earplugs, Gen?" asked Ginny.

"I definitely brought them, but they're probably in the bottom of my bag." She bit her lip, rummaging around in the magically Extended bag. "I'll just — _Accio Earplugs!"_

Three pairs of earplugs — which Genevieve had magically enhanced years ago to completely keep out noise, even the Celestina Warbeck variety — zoomed into her hands. She gave a pair to Ginny and Fred each, keeping one for herself.

"Too bad they wouldn't work on me," said George ruefully.

"Did you really think I'd leave you to suffer this torture alone?" asked Genevieve.

She pulled out a pair of earmuffs on which she'd done the same spell and handed it to him.

"Thanks, Gen!" He sounded pleasantly surprised.

She beamed, putting in her own earplugs as did everyone else.

"Now let's play," she proposed.

That Christmas, Genevieve received an indigo jumper from Mrs. Weasley, a Swedish Short-Snout model and a letter from Charlie, U-No-Poo and other Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products from the twins ("For use on Snape," the note said), a pin from Ginny that proudly displayed _DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY_ to other D.A. members and _GRYFFINDOR_ to anyone else, a book on Transfiguration from Lupin and Tonks, and, perhaps most precious of all, a page out of _To Kill A Mockingbird._

She'd received the pages as promised: once a week, every week since he'd been on the run, and it always gave her the strength and the hope to move forward, to keep defying Snape and the Carrows, to keep protecting the students, to never give up.

In return, she gave Mrs. Weasley an intricate silver necklace, a letter and a Pygmy Puff to Charlie, who'd admired Ginny's during his last visit, some Honeydukes sweets for the twins, who seemed to devour the stuff, a Cloak for Ginny that she'd sewed out of a long-lasting fabric and put a Disillusionment Charm on ("I know it's not nearly as good as Harry's, but it ought to help with some of the D.A. problems."), and an entire box of Honeydukes chocolate for Tonks and Lupin. Since she didn't know where her father was, she couldn't send him anything, but she spent every night lying awake hoping he'd live to the next night.

•~0~•

She kneeled on the snowy ground in front of the grave before her, carefully propping up the latest crossword. She wiped some flakes off the top of the gravestone, fishing around for words to say.

"I-It's just me this year, Grandpa. Dad — I-I know he really wanted to be here, but unfortunately he was a little too busy running for his life. He'll be back soon enough, though. Maybe I can finally convince him to sell that old house of yours — it's just been sitting there for eight years now," she closed her eyes tightly. "Well," she said, standing up. "I ought to go now; it's dangerous to be alone for too long at the moment. I reckon I just wanted you to know that I still remember you" — a hot tear rolled down her cheek — "and I still really, _really_ miss you."


	7. Chapter 7: Drought

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **Sorry for the long wait. What I was doing took longer than expected, and then I hit a bit of writer's block, but I'm back and I hope this was worth the wait.**

•~0~•

"You've got some nerve coming back here, you little leech!" Amycus Carrow glowered at her.

He had been incensed when he and his sister had stumped into the Great Hall to discover Genevieve beside Professor McGonagall, at her normal place.

"Yes, I do believe you're right," she retorted. "How dare I return to my job!"

"Y'know what I mean, you filthy half-blood! I've got half a mind to Cruciate you just for what you did to Selwyn!"

"If you're referring to the ruffian who attacked my students on the Hogwarts Express, I did only what was necessary to protect them," said Genevieve, looking at him disdainfully.

"I'll teach you to mind your place, then," spat Alecto, raising her wand threateningly and jabbing it at Genevieve.

"I'll not have you threatening whoever annoys you," said McGonagall, standing up.

"Well, it ain't a matter of what you'll have, you old besom! It's us what's in charge now, and you don't get a say!" declared Amycus.

"Silence," drawled a deep, bored-sounding voice. "If the students are not permitted to fight within my school, neither are any of you," said Snape firmly.

"But Selwyn —" protested Alecto.

"Selwyn ought to have known better than to underestimate the Hogwarts staff and students," interrupted Snape. "And nevertheless, Miss Snow's fate would not rest with you. If the Dark Lord thinks the matter too insignificant to bother with, it is not to be dealt with."

Amycus growled, but stalked off, Alecto close behind. Genevieve looked curiously at Snape.

"Look," she said lowly, "I don't know how this stunt fits into whatever sick plan you and your _Lord_ have got, but I can take care of myself."

"Ah yes," sneered Snape. "I forgot your preference to be tortured."

"I'd much rather be tortured than betray my friends," snapped Genevieve.

At this, Snape said nothing. He gave her a long, hard look, and walked away. In the following months, neither Snape nor the Carrows gave Genevieve any trouble, though she could feel — and often see — their glares.

•~0~•

"Fred! George!" Genevieve, her face red and puffy, tears rapidly streaming down her cheeks, burst through the doors of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was surprisingly empty. She glanced around, confused.

"What with all the kids off to Hogwarts and everyone else too scared to leave their houses, in-store business has been a bit slower lately," explained Fred as the twins came into view. "We had to let Verity go, there was nothing for her to do anymore."

"But what's wrong?" asked George gently.

"I-I needed someone to — to talk to, an-and you two were the first that — that came to mind," she sputtered shakily.

They led her up to their flat above the shop, Fred getting them all some hot chocolate and George trying to calm her down, to no avail.

"Tell us," urged George when Fred had returned, passing out the warm mugs.

"W-Well, when my father es-escaped, we c-created a s-system so I'd know he's alive," stammered Genevieve, taking uneven breaths and gripping the mug for dear life. "He — He's supposed to send me a p-page once a w-w-week, from t-this book. A-A-And he d-did, every week, without f-fail. But now it's been two, and nothing!" she wailed.

"I'm sure it's fine," said Fred soothingly. "Maybe the bloke just lost track of time. Something tells me he didn't exactly bring a calendar with him."

But there was doubt, hesitation in his voice. And George had simply frowned at her words, his brow furrowing in worry. She shook her head.

"No — No, I _know_ something's wrong. I-I-I can _feel_ it. I have to find out."

"Then we'll be right behind you," assured George.

"Yeah," agreed Fred. "I'll quite enjoy storming into the Ministry."

"Thanks," said Genevieve, smiling slightly. "You're the best."

"Yeah, I am," said Fred cockily, nudging her.

She laughed.

•~0~•

The doors swung open with a bang. Genevieve and the twins entered. A large crowd of Ministry workers turned, shocked.

"Noah Snow!" Genevieve called to the room at large. "Surely you've heard of him. Muggle-born, worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was smart enough to escape all of you back in September. Ring any bells?"

"Miss, you can't just barge in here and expect us to drop everything to solve your problems," said one, walking over to them. Assuming the problem solved, the others resumed work.

"Well, yes, I do understand that," said Genevieve, "but in the Ministry's eyes, this would be a problem already solved. So tell me, _is he dead_? Captured? Rotting in Azkaban?"

The man looked coldly at her. "If you must know, he was caught in the company of a goblin named Gornuk and two other Mudbloods, Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell, and the lot was swiftly taken care of."

"Which means you murdered them all," accused Fred, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around a rapidly crumpling Genevieve, holding her steady.

"We took care of a problem," insisted the man loudly.

"What about the will?" George cut in. "His possessions, everything. Now that he's . . . gone, everything should go to her," he nodded at Genevieve.

"Not yet," said the worker.

"And why not?" demanded Fred.

"Under the Decree for Justifiable Confiscation, the Ministry has the right to confiscate the contents of a will for thirty-one days, if there is strong suspicion that the deceased's possessions are illegal or Dark in any way. Your father created that suspicion when he refused to report for questioning in September."

"Then I'm sorry," said Genevieve resolutely. She raised her wand. "I didn't want to have to do this."

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" said the man, backing away.

"There's no way in hell I'm letting your Ministry take my father's things. You and the people you work for have done enough to my family. _Imperio._ "

"Ah, yes," said the man pleasantly. He walked back to his desk and shuffled through some papers. "Yes, I have the will right here." He picked it up, scanning through it. "Yes, it seems your father left you everything, including all of the money in his vault, your childhood home, and the house of a Benjamin Snow."

"Benjamin Snow?" she repeated in disbelief.

The man studied the paper in his hands.

"Yes, Benjamin Henry Snow. Address —"

"I know what the address is," she interjected distractedly. "I-I reckon I just never thought it'd b-belong to _me._ "

"Why?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, who's Benjamin Henry Snow?" asked George.

"My — My grandfather," said Genevieve.

•~0~•

"I-I haven't been here since — since that night," said Genevieve, running her hand along a bannister. It wiped a full inch of dust along with it. "And apparently no one else has."

"Merlin's beard," exclaimed Fred, looking down in shock. "When you said your grandfather liked crosswords, you weren't kidding. This place is a bloody mess. Where's the floor?"

Genevieve smiled. "They kept him happy. He would fill out entire books in mere days. He'd even write his own, sometimes."

"Like this?" George picked one up off the floor.

The writing on the paper was messy, and the boxes uneven. Moreover, there was only one row on the page. Its clue read, "My beautiful, sweet, intelligent granddaughter, who will continue to be strong and brave and amazing long after I die."

"Even I can fill that one in," said Fred, grabbing the paper and the nearest pen. "GENEVIEVE," he scrawled in large letters.

Genevieve frowned. "Hand me that pen, Fred."

He passed it to her.

"I'd forgotten about this. I'd given it to him, that Christmas right before he — before he — "

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"I-I think I'll keep this," she said, tucking it into her robes.

"Do you think you'll be okay?" asked George.

"I'm sure I will, eventually. It's just — I never expected him dying so soon, or being back here again. So many people have died. My mum, my grandfather, Sirius, Dumbledore, and now Dad. I-I don't think I can take anymore."

"Of course you can," said Fred confidently. George gave him a sharp look. "What? We're in a bloody war, and I don't see an end coming anytime soon. More is going to happen, and more people are probably going to die, and it's a good thing that I know for a fact that Genevieve's strong enough to handle it."

"That was really sweet, Fred."

"Er, just don't start expecting it on a regular basis," he added.

"Deal," grinned Genevieve.

"Wait," said George. "That git at the Ministry said that your father was killed, along with a goblin and Dirk Cresswell and Ted Tonks."

"Dora," breathed Genevieve.

And then, without thinking, she had Disapparated and left them there, and she was knocking on a door, and Lupin answered. And she rushed past him, into the house, to see Tonks, collapsed on the couch, sobbing.

And Genevieve clung to Tonks, and Tonks to her, and burning hot tears covered them both as they cried together, both family, having lost family, and holding tight to what family they had left.

•~0~•

"Are you sure you're up for this?" asked Fred.

"No," answered Genevieve. "But even if I'm not, I have got to hear it in person, not through the wireless."

"All right."

Fred nodded to Lee, who began speaking at once.

"Welcome to _Potterwatch_ , and thank you for listening. We apologize for our temporary absence from the airwaves, which was due to a number of house calls in our area by those charming Death Eaters.

"We have now found ourselves another secure location, and I'm pleased to tell you that three of our regular contributors have joined me here this evening. Evening, boys!"

Genevieve coughed.

"And girl, of course."

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Evening, River."

"But before we hear from Royal, Romulus, and Blizzard, let's take a moment to report those deaths that the _Wizarding Wireless Network News_ and _Daily Prophet_ don't think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks, Noah Snow, and Dirk Cresswell."

At the mention of her father's name, Genevieve felt her stomach turn over.

"A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed. It is believed that Muggle-born Dean Thomas and a second goblin, both believed to have been traveling with Tonks, Snow, Cresswell, and Gornuk, may have escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone has any knowledge of his whereabouts, his parents and sisters are desperate for news.

"Meanwhile, in Gaddley, a Muggle family of five has been found dead in their home. Muggle authorities are attributing the deaths to a gas leak, but members of the Order of the Phoenix inform me that it was the Killing Curse — more evidence, as if it were needed, of the fact that Muggle slaughter is becoming little more than a recreational sport under the new regime.

"Finally, we regret to inform our listeners that the remains of Bathilda Bagshot have been discovered in Godric's Hollow. The evidence is that she died several months ago. The Order of the Phoenix informs us that her body showed unmistakable signs of injuries inflicted by Dark Magic.

"Listeners, I'd like to invite you now to join us in a minute's silence in memory of Ted Tonks, Noah Snow, Dirk Cresswell, Bathilda Bagshot, Gornuk, and the unnamed, but no less regretted, Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters."

There was a long pause. Lee looked at Genevieve, who simply shook her head. _No. I can't do this. Not right now._ He nodded sympathetically.

"Thank you," he spoke to the listeners. "I am sorry to say that Blizzard is unable to speak tonight. And now we turn to regular contributor Royal, for an update on how the new Wizarding Order is affecting the Muggle world."

"Thanks, River," said Kingsley. "Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering as they continue to sustain heavy casualties . . ."

"Are you okay?" mouthed Lupin.

"I will be," she mouthed back.

Fred squeezed her hand comfortingly. At last it was his turn to speak.

"And now," Lee announced, "let's move to news concerning the wizard who is proving just as elusive as Harry Potter. We like to refer to him as the Chief Death Eater, and here to give his views on some of the more insane rumors circulating about him, I'd like to introduce a new correspondent: Rodent."

 _" 'Rodent'?"_ complained Fred. "I'm not being 'Rodent,' no way, I told you I wanted to be 'Rapier'!"

"Oh, all right then. 'Rapier,' could you please give your take on the various stories we've been hearing about the Chief Death Eater?"

"Yes, River, I can. As our listeners will know, unless they've taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who's strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic. Mind you, if all the alleged sightings of him are genuine, we must have a good nineteen You-Know-Whos running around the place."

"Which suits him, of course," added Kingsley. "The air is mystery is breathing more terror than actually showing himself."

"Agreed. So, people, let's try and calm down a bit. Things are bad enough without inventing stuff as well. For instance, the new idea that You-Know-Who can kill with a single glance of his eyes. That's a _basilisk_ , listeners. One simple test: check whether the thing that's glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it's safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that's still likely to be the last thing you ever do."

Genevieve fought back a laugh. Typical of Fred, who could always make you smile in the darkest of times.

"And the rumors that he keeps being sighted abroad?" Lee pressed on.

"Well, who wouldn't want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he's been putting in? Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't count on him being a long way away if you're planning on taking any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!"

"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier," said Lee. "Listeners, that brings us to the end of another _Potterwatch._ We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: the next password will be 'Mad-Eye.' Keep each other safe: keep faith. Goodnight."

•~0~•

Genevieve had been staying at the Burrow, as it was the Easter holidays, and Mrs. Weasley had insisted. Luckily, Fred and George had been there too, for late that night, Bill came, hurried and urgent.

"It's Ron, Harry, and Hermione. They were all captured and escaped, but now the Death Eaters know that Ron's been with Harry all this time. We all have to go into hiding."


	8. Chapter 8: Torture

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

•~0~•

Almost immediately, the lot turned to Genevieve.

"What are you going to do, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley, looking around anxiously.

"Well," Genevieve bit her lip, "I'm not going into hiding; I can't leave my students with the barbaric Carrows and Snape. But it's best that I don't know where you are, in case anyone tries to get that information out of me. I'm sure I could stay with Dora, just for the remainder of the holiday."

They nodded quickly.

"We've got to go, immediately," urged Bill.

"Go," ushered Mr. Weasley to Fred, George, and Ginny. "Pack what you can, and hurry!"

•~0~•

Maybe it was because both of her parents were gone and the Weasleys in hiding that Genevieve simply became reckless, having no reason hide her rebellion any longer. Maybe some part of her valued her life a bit less, with the promise that at least in death she'd be surrounded by those she'd lost, that she'd see Sirius and her grandfather and her father and her mother again. Maybe she got tired of laying low and waiting for that day when they'd finally rally together and defeat Voldemort, once and for all.

But when she saw the Carrows chaining up a first year, and, moreover, when she saw Michael Corner releasing that first year, something inside her snapped. _There are students, still in Hogwarts, risking their lives while I watch_ , she thought. _Neville goes and gets himself tortured every other day, and I don't do a damn thing about it. They went after his grandmother, for God's sake._

And she decided to do something.

"Go," she murmured to Michael Corner, having taken his place. "Run. I've got this."

He gave her a long, solemn look before nodding and taking off, shooting her a short grin before he did.

At least, before he tried.

"And just what do you think you're doing, boy?"

Amycus and Alecto came into view, both looking furious. Michael stood frozen. Amycus's eyes flicked over to Genevieve and the terrified first year.

"You've gorn and got yourself into more'n you can handle, have you, witless?" taunted Alecto. _"Expelliarmus!"_

Their wands flew out of their robes. Amycus caught them.

"We was told to leave you alone, see," began Amycus, smiling with cruel excitement, "but you keep getting in our way, and I bludgering well won't keep allowing it."

Crabbe and Goyle came up behind them, adopting the look of lions about to devour their feast.

"Do with 'im what you want," ordered Alecto, shoving Michael forward, "but keep him alive. It's more fun that way, anyhow."

Eagerly, they grabbed him, dragging him away with surprising speed.

"And now," leered Alecto, "the real fun begins."

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," added Amycus.

And with that, they both bellowed,

 _"Crucio!"_

Pain ripped through every inch of Genevieve's body, forcing her back to the ground, flopping around like a fish without water. She screamed without relief, of a pain more horrible than every other combined.

"How does it feel," shouted Alecto over her, "to know that you can scream all you want, and ain't nobody going to come help?"

Her head felt as though it was about to burst. Her tears burned her flesh. Every thought had been forced from her mind; every memory, every person, every ounce of hope forgotten. She clung to herself, waiting for a peace that would never come. The longer she was under the curse, the more she could feel herself floating away.

And then it stopped.

Genevieve wrenched her eyes open. The Carrows were still there, as foreboding as ever, standing over her.

"Did you think it was over?" cackled Alecto.

She kicked Genevieve, forcefully, in the ribs. Amycus stomped on her face, and Genevieve could feel blood trickling down. He yanked her up by her hair. Alecto punched her, another harsh blow to the face. She pulled out a knife.

"Where should I start?" she wondered aloud.

She made the knife trace a long, shallow line down Genevieve's cheek, then across the top of her arm. Genevieve winced each time the cold knife slid calculatingly across her skin.

"Drip . . . drip . . . drip," Alecto echoed as the blood hit the floor.

"This is boring," whined Amycus. _"Crucio!"_

And, once again, the jarring, intense pain overtook her. Genevieve flailed about, desperate for escape, a weapon to use, anything.

 _Is this how it ends?_ she mused when they again stopped to beat and mutilate her. _Will they kill me, or will I go insane?_

 _Neither_ , said a stubborn, all-too-familiar voice. _If I survived twelve years in Azkaban, you'll get through this._

 _You're dead_ , argued the weary, hopeless voice that was her own.

 _You're not_ , it shot back. _You're too strong to let them win._

 _I'm not like you, Sirius_ , she countered internally.

 _You're better_ , he replied. _Keep fighting._

She wasn't sure if she was already insane, or if this long-dead voice was keeping her from falling off the cliff. But it was all she had to listen to.

With all the control she could muster, Genevieve spat, "You'll never win."

"Look around you," jeered Alecto. "We already have."

 _"Crucio!"_

This time, it wasn't Sirius that spoke to her. This time, the voice was much gentler, much more thoughtful.

 _Genevieve_ , it said, _I'm so proud of what you've already done, but you have got more to do still._

 _Do I?_ she questioned. _What about you, Dad? What about Mum and Grandpa and Sirius? It'd be so much easier to give up, to give up and be with you._

 _You've never taken the easy way_ , he reminded her. _I won't let you now._

There was a loud bang. She flinched. The pain was gone. All was quiet. Warily, she opened her eyes.

Everything was blurry. Genevieve could just barely make out two figures on the ground. Someone stood behind them, white as a sheet and shaking, their wand still pointing threateningly at where the Carrows once stood.

The figure ran forward to help her up, looking worse than ever. The Carrows must have hurt him before he took them out.

"N-Neville?" Genevieve shook her head, her vision clearing slightly. "Is that you?"

"Y-Y-Yes," he answered shakily. "I-I-I took your w-wand. We — we have to go. We don't have much time before they'll follow us."

"We have to hide," gasped Genevieve, still finding it hard to breathe. "We're both in too much danger now. We've caused too much trouble."

"W-Where?" asked Neville, who was supporting Genevieve as they rapidly walked. From behind them, the Carrows were up again and chasing them.

"The Room of Requirement," supplied Genevieve hurriedly. "We can hide there."

Genevieve heard the swift footsteps of the Carrows following them, moving almost as fast as the painful thumping of her heart. And so they dashed, as fast as they could, to the seventh floor, thinking urgently, _We need a place to hide out, where the Carrows or any Carrow supporters will never be able to enter._

A door appeared. Without hesitation, and with the Carrows just behind them, they opened it and slammed the door after entering. The room was just big enough to comfortably fit the two of them. Two hammocks hung grandly from the ceiling, and Gryffindor's tapestry hangings decorated the room.

"Wow," breathed Neville. "There — there's medical supplies, and — and books, and a bathroom that doesn't look too bad."

"All of our immediate needs." Genevieve smiled feebly.

She limped over to the cabinet with first aid and began applying some to what required immediate attention, even teaching Neville how to heal her broken nose.

"Look, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I know how hard that must have been to see earlier, after what happened to your parents."

"I-I'll be okay," said Neville.

"You saved me," said Genevieve. "Thank you."

And together, they learned the abilities and limitations of the room. Together, they met Aberforth, who generously provided food. And as more and more people began showing up, the room expanded to fit them, and Genevieve found a way to be of use, healing those with serious injuries, and teaching anyone who wanted to learn, helping them practice for the battle they all knew was coming.

•~0~•

As soon as she'd gotten word, Genevieve had left, Disapparating from the Hog's Head.

Not long after, she was pounding on the door of Lupin and Tonks'.

"Who is it?" called Lupin cautiously.

"It's Genevieve Snow, daughter of the late Allie Snow, who was once a member of the Black family and therefore related to Nymphadora, your wife, who prefers to go by Tonks, and who just had a baby that I absolutely demand to see!"

Lupin opened the door, looking absolutely ecstatic.

"It's a boy!" he announced. "We've named him Ted!"

His smile fell slightly the more he looked at her. "You look horrible. Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'll explain later," she told him. "Where's Dora?"

"Here," said Tonks, walking into sight, Ted in her arms. She looked up. "Ouch. What happened to you?"

"Later," said Genevieve dismissively.

The baby was giggling, his hair a whirlwind of colors. Genevieve gasped.

"He's a Metamorphmagus?"

Tonks nodded happily.

"Can I hold him?"

"Absolutely," answered Tonks, handing him over.

He grabbed onto Genevieve's finger.

"Hi, Teddy," she cooed. "You are going to be so, so loved, you know that, right?"

He squirmed, and his hair turned the same shade of brown as hers. Genevieve laughed.

"You like that color, huh? Even more than bubblegum pink?"

Tonks scowled playfully. "He loves bubblegum pink," she said defensively.

"Ooh, are you going to have the same temper as your mummy?" teased Genevieve. "I don't know if your daddy can handle that."

"You might be right there," laughed Tonks.

Genevieve sobered, looking into Teddy's trusting face.

"You shouldn't have to live in this mess of a war we're fighting. I wish I could promise you a safe world to grow up in."

"We do, too," said Lupin, kissing Teddy on the forehead. "But just in case . . . we've asked Harry to be godfather."

"He'll make a great one," she assured them.

"That's what I said, and Dora completely agreed with him being godfather, on one condition."

"What's that?" asked Genevieve.

Tonks answered, a nervous smile on her face. "That we'd ask you to be godmother."

Genevieve beamed, looking down at Teddy, who'd fallen asleep in her arms.

"I'd be honored."


	9. Chapter 9: Lightning Has Struck

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **Sorry for yet another break — this summer has truly been hectic. The story is nearing an end. Thank you for reading this far, and I hope you enjoy.**

•~0~•

Genevieve knew from the moment that Ariana's portrait came and silently beckoned Neville that this was it. She somehow knew that, when Neville came back, they would finally fight, and this war would finally be over.

Everyone waited in charged anticipation of his return, not daring to even speak. Then Neville's voice gleefully called out,

"Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?"

The room erupted in an upsurge of surprise and excitement.

"HARRY!" exclaimed Seamus.

"It's Potter, it's POTTER!" yelped Anthony Goldstein.

"Ron!" screeched Lavender Brown.

 _"Hermione!"_ said Genevieve herself, rushing up to first hug the girl, then Ron and Harry.

"Okay, okay, calm down!" ordered Neville, and, grinning widely, Genevieve moved to stand beside him.

Harry examined the room, not recognizing it. "Where are we?"

"Room of Requirement, of course!" answered Neville. "Surpassed itself, hasn't it? The Carrows were chasing me and Gen, and we knew we had just one chance for a hideout: we managed to get through the door and this is what we found! Well, it wasn't exactly like this, it was a load smaller, there were only two hammocks and just Gryffindor hangings. But it's expanded as more and more of the D.A. have arrived."

"And the Carrows can't get in?"

"No," replied Seamus, and Harry paused to take in the bruised and battered appearance he and most of the group had. "It's a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here, they can't get at us, the door won't open. It's all down to Neville and Gen. They really _get_ this room. You've got to ask it for _exactly_ what you need — like, 'I don't want any Carrow supporters to be able to get in' — and it'll do it for you! You've just got to make sure you close the loopholes!"

"Please, it's all Neville," clarified Genevieve, "Quite likely, I wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for him. He — "

"It's nothing," Neville cut across her humbly. "Gen's helped us plenty of times, and as for the room, it's actually quite straightforward. We'd been in here about a day and a half, and Gen had been out freeing more students and helping them away, but we were getting really hungry. I was wishing I could get something to eat, and that's when the passage to the Hog's Head opened up. I went through it and met Aberforth. He's been providing us with food, because for some reason, that's the one thing the room doesn't really do."

"I've been trying to tell you," began Genevieve. "Food is — "

"— one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, yeah," finished Ron.

"I see you've finally got him to listen to you," Genevieve muttered to Hermione good-naturedly.

"But what's happened to you?" asked Hermione, wincing in sympathy at Genevieve's features. Though the marks from her original torture had mostly healed, she'd been caught a few more times rescuing other students.

"Never mind what's happened with me," she said impatiently. "Now that Harry's back, I'll make sure those pesky Death Eaters get their comeuppance."

Hermione bit her lip.

"So we've been hiding out here for nearly two weeks," interrupted Seamus, "and it just makes more hammocks every time we need them. There's even a pretty good bathroom —"

"— likely because us girls thought we'd quite like to wash," completed Lavender.

"Tell us what you've been up to, though," demanded Ernie. "There've been so many rumors, we've been trying to keep up with you on _Potterwatch._ You didn't break into Gringotts?"

"They did!" beamed Neville. "And the dragon's true too!"

The group cheered and applauded the three. Ron bowed theatrically, looking rather pleased with himself.

"What were you after?" pounced Seamus.

Harry jerked suddenly, turning away from the crowd, rocking dangerously. Ron rushed to support him. Genevieve exchanged a worried glance with Hermione.

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Neville, concerned. "Want to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't — ?"

"No," said Harry curtly, looking meaningfully at Ron and Hermione. "We need to get going."

"What are we going to do, then, Harry?" said Seamus eagerly. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" Harry repeated weakly. "Well, there's something we — Ron, Hermione and I — need to do, and then we'll get out of here."

Genevieve's face fell.

"What d'you mean, 'get out of here'?" asked Neville warily.

"You're just going to leave us here?" asked Genevieve at the same time.

"We haven't come back to stay," said Harry simply, rubbing his forehead. "There's something important we need to do —"

"What is it?" asked Genevieve.

"I — I can't tell you."

The group shifted uncomfortably.

"Why can't you tell us?" demanded Neville. "It's something to do with fighting You-Know-Who, right?"

"Well, yeah —"

"Then we'll help you."

Genevieve and the others nodded their agreement, a few even going as far as to stand up.

"You don't understand. We — we can't tell you. We've got to do it — alone."

"Why?" pushed Neville.

"Because . . ." Harry was struggling to find the right words to say. "Dumbledore left the three of us a job, and we weren't supposed to tell — I mean, he wanted us to do it, just the three of us."

"We're his army," countered Neville. "Dumbledore's Army. We were all in it together, we've been keeping it going while you three have been off on your own —"

"It hasn't exactly been a picnic, mate," said Ron wearily.

"Neither has our year," argued Genevieve.

"I never said it had," Neville continued, "but I don't see why you can't trust us. Everyone in this room's been fighting and they've been driven in here because the Carrows were hunting them down. Everyone in here's proven they're loyal to Dumbledore — loyal to you."

"Look," said Harry, but he was interrupted by two new arrivals.

"We got your message, Neville!" said Luna brightly, Dean Thomas just behind her. "Hello you three, I thought you must be here!"

"Luna!" exclaimed Genevieve, hurrying to hug her.

"Hi, everyone! Oh, it's great to be back!"

"Luna," began Harry, "what are you doing here? How did you — ?"

"I sent for her," explained Neville, brandishing the fake Galleon they'd used when the D.A. had first been started. "I promised her and Ginny that if you turned up I'd let them know. We all thought that if you came back, it would mean revolution. That we were going to overthrow Snape and the Carrows."

"Of course that's what it means," replied Luna happily. "Isn't it, Harry? We're going to fight them out of Hogwarts?"

"Listen," said Harry urgently, "I'm sorry, but that's not what we came back for. There's something we've got to do, and then —"

"So Genevieve was right?" said Michael Corner incredulously. "You're going to leave us in this mess?"

"No!" disagreed Ron. "What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end, it's all about trying to get rid of You-Know-Who —"

"Then let us help!" said Neville, frustrated. "We want to be a part of it!"

People climbed out of the tunnel once again, this time Ginny, Fred, George, and Lee. The twins and Lee held their arms out to hug Genevieve, Fred raising his free hand in greeting to the others.

"Aberforth's getting a bit annoyed," he said. "He wants a kip, and his bar's turned into a railway station."

As if proving his point, Cho Chang climbed into the room just behind Lee.

"I got the message," she said, raising her own fake Galleon as proof.

"So what's the plan, Harry?" asked George, getting right to business.

"There isn't one," responded Harry vaguely.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we?" assumed Fred gleefully. "My favorite kind."

"You've got to stop this!" groaned Harry to Neville. "What did you call all them back for? This is insane —"

"We're fighting, aren't we?" interrupted Dean, taking out his Galleon and inspecting the inscription. "The message said Harry was back, and we were going to fight! I'll have to get a wand, though —"

"You haven't got a _wand —_ " intercepted Seamus, dumbfounded.

Ron suddenly rounded on Harry, and they and Hermione began conversing in low voices.

"So how are you?" George asked Genevieve sympathetically.

"Yeah, you don't look so great, mate," added Fred.

"Who did this to you?" asked Lee, looking furious.

"Don't worry," she told them, "they're not getting away with it, if I've got my say."

"Ooh, Genevieve's going to hunt down some Death Eaters," teased Lee.

"Oi!" said Genevieve, offended. "Don't make me add you to my list."

"We'll be happy to supply any materials necessary to take him down," joked George.

"That gives me an idea," said Fred. He addressed the crowd. "A month's worth of free Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes merchandise to any bloke that helps put these Death Eaters where they belong!"

A collective cheer rose up.

"That's right!" said George. "All the U-No-Poo your heart desires!"

"Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder!"

"Pygmy Puffs!"

"Okay," started Harry, and the room fell silent. "There's something we need to find. Something — something that'll help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with her eagle on it, for instance?"

"You haven't got anything else to go on?" asked Genevieve.

Harry shook his head.

"Well," piped up Luna, "there's her lost diadem. I told you about it remember, Harry? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? Daddy's trying to duplicate it."

"Yeah," said Michael Corner dismissively, "but the lost diadem is _lost_ , Luna. That's sort of the point."

"When was it lost?" said Harry, intrigued.

"Centuries ago, they say," contributed Cho. "Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but nobody's ever found a trace of it, have they?"

The group of Ravenclaw shook their heads.

"Sorry, but what _is_ a diadem?" asked Ron.

"It's kind of a crown," supplied Terry Boot. "Ravenclaw's was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer."

"Yes, Daddy's Wrackspurt siphons —"

"And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?" interrupted Harry.

Again, they shook their heads, which seemed to greatly disappoint Harry.

"What's he want with a crown?" mouthed Fred, confused.

Genevieve shrugged.

Cho's voice caught her off-guard. "If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Harry?" she offered. "Ravenclaw's wearing it in her statue."

Again, Harry said something to Ron and Hermione. Cho stood to lead him, but Ginny cut in.

"No, Luna will take Harry, won't you, Luna?"

"Oooh, yes, I'd like to," replied Luna.

Neville showed them the way out, and, without further ado, the two left.

This did not, however, stop people from coming. They made sure to inform those of the D.A. who hadn't arrived yet, along with the Order.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come first, Mrs. Weasley giving Genevieve a tight hug. Bill and Fleur followed soon after. Then Oliver Wood, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and —

"Katie!" shrieked Genevieve, rushing up to wrap her tightly in a hug. "How are you? Oh, I'm so glad you came!"

"You didn't think I was planning on missing this, did you?" laughed Katie. "But it is nice to see you again," she added.

"You wouldn't believe how much I've missed you," said Genevieve.

"Same here," she agreed.

"Kingsley! Lupin!" called Genevieve merrily, happy to be reunited with all these friends, even if it was before a battle. But someone was missing. "Where's Tonks?"

"Well, she's with Teddy, at her mother's," explained Lupin. "Not that she's excited about it."

"Are you kidding?" breathed Genevieve. "She's probably cursing your name for having to stay behind."

"Probably," he agreed.

Finally, Harry and Luna returned, though Harry was certainly surprised at the new head-count of the room.

"Wh — ?"

"Harry, what's happening?" asked Lupin seriously.

"Voldemort's on his way, they're barricading the school — Snape's run for it — What are you doing here? How did you know?"

"We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore's Army," answered Fred. "You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Harry, and the D.A. let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of snowballed."

"What first, Harry?" asked George. "What's going on?"

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized. We're fighting."

There was an upsurge of cheers and hurry towards the stairs, though Fred, George, Genevieve, Lee, and Katie stood together for a moment.

"When all of this is over," promised Fred, "a round of butterbeer, on me!"

"Can't say no to that," grinned Lee. "As long as you add the greatest game of Exploding Snap there ever was!"

"Sounds great," said Genevieve.

"I hate to be the sappy, sentimental one," said Katie gently. "But I want you lot to know how much I love you."

They nodded solemnly.

"Me, too," said Genevieve.

"And me," said George.

"Me as well," said Lee.

"Cheers," finished Fred. "Now let's go kick the arses of those pesky Death Eaters!"

"Yeah!" they cried together.

•~0~•

 **A/N: Happy belated to Neville Longbottom, and, depending on the time zone you're in, to Harry Potter and J.K. Rowling, without whom none of this would be possible!**


	10. Chapter 10: When Silence Is Deafening

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **Sorry again for the wait, but this is a very long chapter, so I hope it was worth it. Enjoy.**

•~0~•

Before Fred, George, and Genevieve could follow the others to the Great Hall, a strangled groan caught their attention. Ginny was glowering stubbornly at Mrs. Weasley, who met her stony gaze with one of her own.

"I'm fighting, and there's nothing you could say to change my mind!" declared Ginny.

"You're underage!" bellowed Mrs. Weasley. "I won't permit it! The boys, yes, but you, you've got to go home!"

"I won't!" refused Ginny, yanking her arm away from her mother. "I'm in Dumbledore's Army —"

"A teenagers' gang!" dismissed Mrs. Weasley.

"A teenagers' gang that's about to take him on, which no one else has dared to do!" Fred stepped in.

"She's sixteen!" retorted Mrs. Weasley. "She's not old enough! What you two were thinking, bringing her with you —"

The twins recoiled.

"Mum's right, Ginny," Bill told her. "You can't do this. Everyone underage will have to leave, it's only right."

"I can't go home!" argued Ginny tearfully.

"She shouldn't have to!" blurted Genevieve suddenly. She turned to Mrs. Weasley, who, most among any of them, looked shocked. "I'm sorry, Molly, but Ginny deserves to fight alongside everyone else. You lot weren't with her at Hogwarts. You didn't see what she and the other students had to deal with firsthand. I did. I watched her step up and be a leader to the other students. I watched her be a voice for the students whose voice Snape and the Carrows tried to take. I watched her step out of Harry's shadow, out of Ron's, out of any of her siblings', because they weren't there for her to rely on anymore, and defend herself. These students, they didn't have Harry Potter or the Order or even Dumbledore to help them, so they helped themselves. Underage or not, they are so much stronger than you give them credit for, Ginny especially."

There was a moment's silence. Harry, who had wandered over at around the same time as Genevieve, still looked doubtful. Mrs. Weasley protested.

"But this isn't just a few Death Eaters, this is You-Know-Who! There's going to be a battle! She could die!"

"She's faced those odds before, remember?" reminded Genevieve. "At the Department of Mysteries two years ago, here, last year. She's —"

But Genevieve was interrupted by a loud thud as someone fell through the tunnel into the room. When he pulled himself up, the horn-rimmed glasses that rested crookedly on his head shook as he glanced frantically around.

"Am I too late?" he wheezed. "Has it started? I only just found out, so I — I —"

It was then that Percy noticed his family and trailed, none too smoothly, into silence. No one spoke, several too stunned to even make a sound, and none having any clue what to say next. Finally, Fleur, in a painfully evident attempt to guide the focus away from Percy, said to Lupin, "So — 'ow eez leetle Teddy?"

For a moment, Lupin simply stared at her, not following, before catching on and hurrying to answer. "I — oh yes — he's fine! Yes, Tonks is with him — at her mother's —"

The salvage mission was failing horribly. The Weasleys hadn't shifted at all, and Lupin was getting increasingly uneasy, which only led him to become louder. Despite this, Genevieve tried to help.

"What color has he got for his hair now?" she asked, trying to sound genuinely curious.

"He's rather liking turquoise at the moment," squirmed Lupin. "Here, I've got a picture!"

He waved a photo of a chubby baby with brilliant turquoise hair at Fleur, Harry, and Genevieve.

"I was a fool!" wailed Percy suddenly, causing Lupin to jump. "I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a — a —"

He floundered for something to say. Fred seized the opportunity.

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," supplied Fred.

Genevieve knew that confessing to this would prove Percy's earnestness. Pride had always been his downfall. True enough, Percy gulped, but it was with clarity that he said,

"Yes, I was!"

"Well, you can't say fairer than that," admitted Fred, extending a hand.

At that, Mrs. Weasley dissolved into tears, running to meet her son, shoving Fred away at the same time.

"I'm sorry, Dad," said Percy quietly.

Mr. Weasley simply hugged him.

"What made you see sense, Perce?" asked George curiously.

"It's been coming on for a while. But I had to find a way out and it's not so easy at the Ministry, they're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aberforth and he tipped me off ten minutes ago that Hogwarts was going to make a fight of it, so here I am."

"Well, we do look to our prefects to take a lead at times such as these," said George in a rather spot-on imitation of Percy's usually prideful demeanor. "Now let's get upstairs and fight, or all the good Death Eaters'll be taken."

"Make a run for it," said Genevieve to Ginny almost imperceptibly, who nodded and scampered off without making a sound.

Before she could get away, however, Mrs. Weasley roared "Ginny!"

"Molly, how about this," proposed Lupin. "Why doesn't Ginny stay here, then at least she'll be on the scene and know what's going on, but she won't be in the middle of the fighting?"

"I —"

"That's a good idea," interjected Mr. Weasley. "Ginny, you stay in this room, you hear me?"

"But she's earned the right to fight," said Genevieve heatedly. "I refuse to go without her."

"You'd really do that?" asked Ginny.

"Of course," said Genevieve as though it was obvious. "Look, I might not have a family anymore, but you and your family are the closest I've got, and I know that I'd be worried sick, stuck in here while your family was out there." She turned to the others. "I refuse to fight unless Ginny can too."

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "I'm sorry then, dear, but it seems as though you're staying here."

Lupin gave her arm a squeeze and shot her a sympathetic smile as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and he headed for the stairs.

And after inquiring where Ron and Hermione had gone, to which neither Genevieve nor Ginny had a definite answer, Harry left too.

•~0~•

Genevieve laid down in her hammock, throwing a small ball and catching it in her hand, trying desperately to keep her mind off the plans that were probably being made as they waited helplessly. Ginny was doing a much less successful job, pacing back and forth.

"Oh, this is torture!" Ginny groaned.

"I wouldn't call it torture," said Genevieve casually, though she winced at the memory, accidentally dropping the ball. She pointed her wand at it. _"Accio ball!"_ It flew back into her hand. "But I don't think it's enjoyable."

"Like hell it is," grumbled Ginny, collapsing into a nearby hammock. "I only —"

But she was cut off by a voice that sent chills down Genevieve's spine, one that was high and cold and could only belong to one person.

"I know that you are preparing to fight. Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.

"Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed. Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded.

"You have until midnight."

Ginny and Genevieve stayed silent for a long time after that. Finally, Genevieve said, in a slow, exasperated voice,

"You don't reckon there's any chance that we both imagined that, do you?"

Ginny shook her head.

Gradually the room became full with hundreds of evacuating students, each one unusually silent or jumpy, some crying, some worried. And eventually the room emptied again, and it was just Genevieve and Ginny once more.

Genevieve had long since forgotten about the ball, and they had simply sat there, in anxious silence, waiting for any news they might come by.

At last Ginny broke the silence.

"You should go," she said stiffly.

"What?" said Genevieve, surprised. "No, no, I already said I wouldn't leave without you."

"It's bad enough that I have to stay here," said Ginny. "You ought not be trapped in here with me."

"Are you sure?" asked Genevieve, looking her straight in the eyes.

Ginny smiled softly. "Go," she urged. "Hogwarts needs its favorite student."

And with one last quick grin, Genevieve took off toward the grounds, where the battle was already raging. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lupin dueling Dolohov, but before she could run to meet him, another Death Eater stepped in front of her.

His rough voice called out to her, sounding angry. "Remember me?"

"You tried to kill me on the train," she said, looking at him in disgust. "That didn't work out too well for you last time."

"Second time's the charm," said Selwyn, aiming his wand at her. _"Crucio!"_

 _"Protego!"_ Genevieve blocked the spell. _"Impedimenta!"_ she shouted, throwing him back. _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Selwyn blocked the spell just before it reached him. "Your weak little jinxes aren't going to work on me," he taunted. "You need to be willing to inflict real damage! _Avada Kedavra_!"

Genevieve dodged the jet of green light quickly, shooting a Stunner back at him, which he avoided. "I don't need to stoop to your level to beat you!" she shouted, pointing her wand at his robes. _"Incendio!"_

He patted his robes frantically, trying the extinguish the fire that singed them. Genevieve used his distraction to shout another _"Stupefy!"_ And once again, Selwyn hit the ground, unconscious.

Genevieve hurried to catch up with Lupin, who was still dueling Dolohov heatedly. Lupin was steadily gaining on him, forcing Dolohov to the ground.

But then Lupin looked away for a split second, his attention shifting to the second figure running to help him, who wasn't supposed to be there, whose bubblegum pink hair was hard to miss even in the early hours of the morning, before the sun rose. And it was this precious time that was his last mistake. Because Genevieve saw what Lupin had missed.

She saw the green light leave his opponent's wand. She saw Tonks's eyes widen with shock. She cried "NO!" as Lupin crumpled. She caught his falling body in her arms. She swept his too-gray hair out of his eyes. She set him carefully on the ground as Tonks reached him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She told Tonks to stay with him as she began to chase after Dolohov. And she whispered one last phrase in his unhearing ear before she left him. She said "Mischief managed."

Genevieve was filled with such a rage when she caught up to Dolohov, who seemed amused by her emotion.

"Why would you care about filth like him anyway? He was tainted, worthless!" He sent a Killing Curse flying toward her.

She ducked, sending a spell of her own back at him, seething. "He was ten times the man you are!"

Dolohov laughed cruelly. "He wasn't a man, he was a monster!"

"You're the monster!"

"You hero-types never learn, do you?" said Dolohov. "You can't win because you've already lost! You lost the moment you decided to believe that blood wasn't important! You're sick and perverted and I'm only helping the Dark Lord clean up the mess that you created! Your werewolf friend shouldn't've been allowed to live like one of us in the first place! He was —"

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

Dolohov's wand shot out of his hand and Genevieve caught it. He was flung back by the force of the spell, and Genevieve stood over him, both wands pointing at him threateningly and her face red with fury.

"Go ahead," he sneered. "Do it."

Genevieve moved closer to him, the wands mere inches from his throat. She took in a deep breath, then shook her head. "You're not worth the effort. _Stupefy_!"

Her hand shook as she used magic to tie his unconscious body to a tree at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She was too dazed to notice that Travers would free him when her back was turned, and too weary to care. Blood pounded in her head as she thought about his words, but more than that, as she thought about Lupin himself. He'd finally let himself be happy. He was happy. He had a wife, he had a son. Oh God, _Teddy._ Teddy would grow up without a father just as she'd grown up without a mother. Teddy would never know the amazing man that his father was. He would never know the flawed, imperfect man whose life he had become the light of.

And then, as she retraced her steps to where she knew Lupin's body was, she saw it.

The bubblegum pink hair.

On the ground.

She was much too still. And as Genevieve approached, she noticed another figure, desperately trying to shake the witch awake, crying that it wanted to and could not save her.

Ginny.

Genevieve knelt down beside them, taking Ginny's hand in hers and Tonks's in her other. It was still warm. She let the tears fall like fragile raindrops, dripping to a hopeless ground, for her last piece of family was now gone.

When she'd lost her mother, her father had taken care of her. When she'd lost Sirius, she'd found Tonks. When she'd lost her father, lost Lupin, she could still count on Tonks being there, being her shoulder to cry on, the last thing she could cling to.

The Weasleys were different. Yes, she considered them family, but they were their own family in their own right, and close-knit as it was. Ginny had grown up with six older brothers to love and protect her. Ron could laugh with the twins. Percy, as much of a prat as he was, had always come back, even now. Charlie, even as far as he was, even in Romania, had always known that he had family to back home. Bill had just started his own, marrying Fleur.

Tonks had been much like an older sister, someone that she felt understood her. And now she was gone.

And she'd been wrong earlier. She'd assumed that Teddy was like her, growing up with one parent, the other having died a hero. Teddy was even less fortunate. Both of his parents had died heroes. He'd been orphaned by a war, by a world too corrupt and broken to deserve him.

Genevieve felt guilty. She'd been lucky enough to know his parents. She'd be the one to have learned from Lupin, not him. She'd be the one to have laughed with Tonks, not him. He wouldn't go to them for comfort or for advice, like she had. When he learned how amazing and kind and brave his parents had been, he wouldn't be able to hug them. He wouldn't be able to talk to them. He would never have Tonks to show him how best to use his Metamorphmagus abilities. He would never have Lupin to teach him that prejudice would only blind him. He wouldn't have any of that, because he wouldn't have them.

Genevieve kissed Tonks's forehead, and promised quietly, to Tonks and to herself, to always take care of Teddy.

She turned to Ginny.

"Did you see who — who — ?"

Ginny nodded, looking revolted at her answer. "I saw Bellatrix running away and laughing as Tonks fell to the ground."

"She finally 'pruned' her family tree," said Genevieve bitterly. She stood up, looking painfully down at Tonks, mere feet from Lupin. "Can you carry her?" she asked Ginny.

"I-I can try," said Ginny doubtfully.

Just then, Genevieve saw a familiar face in the distance.

"Luna!" she yelled, and the girl hurried to meet them. "Can you help Ginny?"

"Of course," said Luna immediately, and gently. This was probably the most subdued Genevieve had ever seen her.

And when Ginny and Luna were carrying Tonks back to the castle, and Genevieve Lupin, the sickeningly calm voice of Voldemort broke through once more.

"You have fought, valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommended. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

The words slid away from Genevieve as though she hadn't heard them at all. She only wanted to get back to the castle, to see Fred and George and Katie and Lee and to hope that no one else would have to die tonight.

When they reached the Great Hall, the bodies were taken from them, and Ginny ran immediately to her family while Genevieve hung back.

That is, until she saw a certain face.

"Charlie! You're here! I've never been so happy to see you, trust me!" Genevieve grinned widely with tired relief, so glad to see him, to find new strength in him, but there was something in his eyes. "Wh-what's wrong? Is everyone okay? Harry's okay? Nobody's hurt or anything, are they — NO!"

And at that moment life itself shattered for Genevieve. For, laying motionless on the floor of the Great Hall, as if suspended in time, was Fred, his eyes blank, his mouth still poised to laugh. Mrs. Weasley lay sobbing at his chest, Mr. Weasley at her side. Genevieve felt as though the world was crushing her, destroying her from the inside out, like her heart was being ripped from her chest.

"No! _No_! This can't be it! He's not dead! It-it's a joke! He-he's joking with us, right? Ha, ha, Fred, _not funny_ , you — you can — you can sit up now!"

But he didn't sit up, and no one smiled. Genevieve, thinking wildly, rounded on George, who was crumpled at his head.

"George?" she looked desperately at him, her eyes stinging with hot tears that flowed freely down her cheeks.

For one horrible, soul-splitting moment, he raised his eyes to meet hers, his face red and blotchy, and he shook his head.

Charlie moved to hug her, but Genevieve backed away, shaking her head. This didn't make sense. How could Fred be dead? He couldn't — _couldn't_ be dead. How could she make sense of this? She needed to think of this logically, to find a connection. But she couldn't think logically, she couldn't think. To everyone's surprise, she turned her attention to Percy.

"You." Her voice shook. " _You_. I-I-I _never_ — I never liked you. B-But the _day_ , the day you come — y-you come back, and he — he — a-and Dora. . ." — her thoughts flashed back to the bodies she'd brought with her — "and Remus . . . I-I-I just — "

She knew she'd crossed the line, but she didn't care. Percy's eyes were closed, his face twisted with grief and pain. He lowered his head, his hands encasing his face. Charlie approached her slowly, cautiously, like he might a wary dragon.

"Gen." His voice cracked.

She shook her head, as if trying to shake away this reality, because there could not possibly exist a world without Fred Weasley. There just couldn't. Unable to stand it any longer, Genevieve ran.

She was hardly aware where she was going. It was not like it mattered anymore; how could anything matter anymore? She ran without pause, without falter, because she knew that if she stopped, if she paused even for a second, the news might sink in, it would become real, and Fred really would be dead. She ran for his life.

Her breaths fell heavy and rapid. Her entire body ached with a turmoil she had never before felt.

The school was torn apart, and large parts of it stood in her way, but she paid it no mind. She just ran. At long last, she collapsed in a corridor and broke down, her breath heavy, and her tears streaming down her face. With a start, she realized that she was in front of Filch's office.

Words echoed through her head, tormenting her, forcing her to remember.

 _"I know what you did," a high-pitched, matter-of-fact voice sniffed._

 _"Oh yeah? Are you gonna snitch, Little Miss Perfect?" shot back a defiant one._

 _"We don't even know what it does, but we won't let you get in the way of us figuring out," added his twin._

 _"Actually, I was going to insist on helping you figure it out, seeing as I've got more brains than you two put together. Look, you took the . . . whatever on my watch, and I'm not one to turn down a good mystery. If I'm going to get in trouble for this, I reckon I might as_ _well_ _know_ _why."_

The next words echoed throughout her entire being, and she knew them by heart.

 _"This might be the start of a beautiful friendship."_

"Gen."

She jumped, saw Charlie, and relaxed, hugging her legs. He sat down beside her.

"What I said to Percy," she started, her voice hoarse and flat, "I didn't mean it."

"I know," said Charlie, his voice barely audible. "He knows too."

"I can't believe he's gone," she choked out.

"I know."

 _"Fred."_

"I know."

She didn't know how long they sat there, wordless, each relying on the other for comfort, but eventually Charlie and Slughorn left for Hogsmeade to gather reinforcements.

And then, a cold and clear end to the peace, Voldemort's voice triumphantly announced to them all.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together.

"Come."

Warily, Genevieve and the others approached, hoping against hope that Voldemort was wrong, and that Harry wasn't dead, that it hadn't all been for nothing.

But when they stepped outside, there he was, his body cradled carefully in Hagrid's sob-shaken arms.

"NO!" shouted Professor McGonagall, her composure slipping, her despair terrible. Bellatrix cackled in delight.

"No!"

 _"No!"_

"Harry! HARRY!"

"No," breathed Genevieve, almost silently. The crowd began to insult Voldemort and his Death Eaters, shouting abuse till their voices were hoarse.

"SILENCE!" roared Voldemort, and with a loud bang they were forced to oblige. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Hagrid carefully set him on the ground.

"You see?" Voldemort moved to stand beside Harry. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" cried Ron in a strangled but strong voice, and his rebellion allowed them all to speak and abuse him once more. Voldemort cast the charm again, and again they were forced to silence.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," jeered Voldemort, "killed while trying to save himself —"

Just then, Neville tore away from the crowd and charged at Voldemort, who Disarmed him easily, laughing all the while.

"And who is this? Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Bellatrix beamed. "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," Voldemort looked down at Neville. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" snarled Neville.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," spat Neville, and Genevieve, given courage through his, cried out with him. "Dumbledore's Army!"

"Very well," said Voldemort coldly. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it."

With a wave of his wand, the Sorting Hat flew into his hand.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," announced Voldemort. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Neville Longbottom?"

He forced Neville to remain still, placing the hat upon his head, none too gently. Genevieve moved to help him, but the Death Eaters' wands kept her in place.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Voldemort, using his wand to light the Sorting Hat on fire.

"NO!" shouted Genevieve, rushing forward toward him.

At that moment, Charlie and Slughorn's reinforcements came hurrying toward the castle, while Grawp, bellowing, "HAGGER!", stomped into view, and large numbers of centaurs galloped toward them, flinging arrows at the surprised Death Eaters.

Neville took control of his movement once more, seizing the sword of Gryffindor from within the still flaming Sorting Hat, and in one swift movement, beheading Nagini, Voldemort's snake.

Through all the chaos around her, almost none of which Genevieve could make out, Genevieve saw Bellatrix dueling Hermione, Luna, and Ginny, who barely avoided a Killing Curse.

That was the last straw.

"GET BACK!" screeched Genevieve, running up to Bellatrix. "EVERYONE, BACK!"

Genevieve and Bellatrix became locked in a duel more fierce than they had ever fought before, each curse missing the other by mere inches. Bellatrix was unusually focused throughout the battle, forgoing the usual taunts and instead concentrating on the nonstop spells flying toward her.

"You will never hurt _anyone_ I care about _ever_ again," yelled Genevieve.

"You can't stop me," retorted Bellatrix with a laugh.

And it was in that moment, when Bellatrix had stopped to laugh, that Genevieve sent one final spell, roaring, " _EXPELLIARMUS_!"

Bellatrix's wand soared through the air toward her, and Genevieve threw it away without a second thought, having no desire to touch any wand that had been in her grasp.

"Oh, I see," cackled Bellatrix. "Little Gennie thinks she's tough. You can't do what I can; you don't have the guts."

"Never," said Genevieve slowly, " _never_ speak for me."

"Then prove — me — wrong." Bellatrix smiled superiorly, as if she understood some cruel joke Genevieve did not. "Kill me, and get this over with. Kill me, like your little red-haired friend was killed. Hurt me, like I hurt those Aurors, the Longbottoms. Hurt me, like I hurt you. Murder me, like I murdered your mummy, like I murdered Sirius Black, like I murdered my young niece. Show me, show everyone here, that I was wrong! Or better, show them how you're no better than me!"

Though she was gripping her wand so tightly it hurt, and though her eyes flashed with a fury few had seen in her, Genevieve was quite calm when she answered Bellatrix. She walked up to her, pulling her so close that she could feel Bellatrix's pants against her shoulder, and whispered in her ear,

"I will _always_ be better than you." She shoved her away, and, louder, said simply. "Look behind you."

And Bellatrix turned to see Mrs. Weasley glaring at her so ferociously that Genevieve herself backed away at the sight of it.

"YOU — DON'T — MESS — WITH — MY — FAMILY, YOU BITCH!" screamed Mrs. Weasley, her spell shooting across the air, hitting Bellatrix with such force that both were flung back, and only one stood up again.

At the sight of his most loyal servant on the ground, dead, Voldemort screamed. He turned toward Genevieve and Mrs. Weasley, pointing his wand at them. Genevieve stood in front of her, ready to take the blow for herself.

 _"Protego!"_ shouted an unknown voice, and a shield rose between the two and Voldemort. Harry pulled off his Invisibility Cloak.

"He's alive," said Genevieve quietly, to herself, as, wordlessly, Voldemort and Harry began to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to help," Harry told them. It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"Potter doesn't mean that," sneered Voldemort. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody. There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good . . ."

"One of us? You think it will be, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" asked Harry calmly. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

 _"Accidents!"_ roared Voldemort. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die stop you from hurting these people —"

"But you did not!"

"— I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you now. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

 _"You dare —"_

"Yes, I dare. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

"Is it love again?" said Voldemort finally, after a long pause. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, _love_ , which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him from falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? _Love_ , which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter — and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," said Harry simply.

"If this not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both."

Voldemort laughed. "You think _you_ know more magic than I do? Than _I_ , than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" hissed Voldemort in a sudden outburst. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did, but you were wrong."

Genevieve shifted. What could he mean? All this time, the two had never stopped moving, never stopped circling each other.

 _"Dumbledore is dead!_ His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

Genevieve's breath caught in her throat.

"What childish dream is this?"

"Severus Snape wasn't yours. Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle? Snape's Patronus was a doe, the same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children . . ."

Everything else seemed a blur to Genevieve, all was quiet. Snape had been on their side? He'd killed Dumbledore on Dumbledore's request? He'd been protecting Harry, protecting them all, all this time, because he'd loved Harry's mother? How could any of this be? And how could it make sense? She tried to listen again.

". . . Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all," Harry was saying. "It's backfired on you, Riddle. That wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

 _The Elder Wand?_ thought Genevieve, confused. _But it was only a legend, a tale passed down through generations._

". . . I stole the wand from its last master's tomb," boasted Voldemort. "I removed it against its last master's wishes. Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? _The wand chooses the wizard_ . . . The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him its allegiance . . . The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

"But was does it matter?" asked Voldemort quietly. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone . . . and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy . . ."

"But you're too late. You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

Harry brandished the wand in his hand.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" he said quietly. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does . . . I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

At the moment, the sun rose into the sky, illuminating everyone as Voldemort and Harry each cried a spell.

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

The light from each spell met the other, and Voldemort's wand flew through the air to Harry, who caught it as Voldemort's body hit the ground, as mortal as any other.

•~0~•

Everyone was celebrating. That is, except for a small handful of people. Charlie had long since gone outside for some time alone, finally processing the weight of all that had happened and all he had missed. Genevieve had stayed behind, wanting to give him that, and to have some time for herself, wondering what would happen next.

Would she stay, and help everyone pick up the pieces? Would she stay, and help throughout the next year at Hogwarts, as they put their school back together? Or would she leave, and try to make a new life for herself, to get a fresh start? Would she follow Charlie to Romania, and study dragons, as she had always yearned to do?

For the second time today, Ginny interrupted her thoughts. "You should go," she said.

"What?" asked Genevieve, confused.

"Go," she repeated, nodding in the direction Charlie had left. "Go after him. I know you want to. You've fancied him since — what — my second year? And he's felt the same for almost as long, I can tell. You've both been too bloody scared to do anything about it. And," Ginny looked straight at her, "out of everyone here, you deserve a happy ending."

Genevieve smiled. "Are you sure I ought to go? Now? We've both lost so much."

"And you can gain so much from each other," countered Ginny. "Go. It's about time I checked on Mum, anyway," she added.

And with that, Genevieve sped through the halls outside, where she knew he would be, in their old spot, and where he was, sitting, a spot beside him open for her.

"Charlie!" she called, and he looked at her, jolted by her sudden outburst, scrambling to his feet as she ran toward him.

Because if there was one thing this second war had taught her, it was that life was far too short not to act insanely. So, as she dashed into the arms of Charlie Weasley, she kissed him. And he had pulled away, looking at her in shock as her heart sank. Then he was kissing her, with a kind of furious passion, and if she had one thought in that moment, it was that, at this one second in a world, a storm, of seconds, all the pain and the sorrow and the worries and the loss and the grief had been washed away, if only for that one second, and there was just Genevieve and Charlie, together at last.

At long last, they pulled away from each other, breathless. And even now, she was missing his touch, the feeling of his rough hands cupping her cheek, in her hair, at her back, pulling her close to him.

Then somebody commented, "Finally. I reckoned it would never happen."

They turned to see Bill, leaning against a nearby tree and giving them a curious smile. Genevieve and Charlie laughed, a laugh that echoed around them and filled them with joy. Charlie waved him away with his hand, and Bill, ever the gentleman, obliged.

Charlie took her face in his hands. "Now where were we?" he whispered before kissing her again, gently this time, but somehow even more passionate.

Smiling against him, she deepened the kiss, and he lifted her up, holding her tightly as she ran her hands down his hair to grip his neck. After an even longer moment, they broke away, gasping for air.

"Marry me," murmured Charlie.

Genevieve laughed, laying her head to rest against his shoulder. "It's a bit soon for that, don't you think?"

"Feels like forever," he replied.

"I know."


	11. Epilogue

**A/N:** **The credit of the Harry Potter plot and characters belongs solely to J.K. Rowling, with the only thing I own being my own characters and storyline.**

 **This will be the final chapter of my Snow series. However, as I found myself imagining too many little moments to put in one singular epilogue, this epilogue will come in three parts. Thank you for reading to the end, and I hope this is a satisfying enough ending to my first story.**

•~0~•

 **Ten months after the Battle of Hogwarts**

She smoothed her dress anxiously, simultaneously trying to wipe the sweat off her hands. So much could go wrong in the next few minutes.

"Relax," whispered Katie calmly in her ear. "Nothing's going to happen. It all ended months ago. No more fighting. You don't have to be some warrior anymore. You can just be you, be happy. Besides," she added, "it's not like Death Eaters are going to spontaneously appear as soon as we start the walk down the aisle."

"But what if I trip?" worried Genevieve. "What if I say the wrong words?"

Katie laughed. "You won't. This is your happy ending, Gen. Take it."

Genevieve smiled. "You really think I can have a happy ending?"

"I do."

Out of sight, forty guests were scrutinizing the state of Charlie, Bill, George, Ron, and two other Dragonologists, almost all of whom were wearing everyday clothes. None of the six matched each other, and they displayed that unapologetically. Unfortunately, some guests still complained.

"What sort of hoodlum would allow their wedding in such mediocrity? Outside, too," grumbled Auntie Muriel as a leaf cascaded down and landed on her head.

Genevieve and George had vowed it months before. No fancy weddings, for either of them. Everyone at or involved in the ceremony could wear whatever they pleased. Charlie had wholeheartedly agreed. Shockingly, the full Body-Bind Curse on Mrs. Weasley hadn't been necessary. Once she heard the reason, at least. She did, however, seem dangerously on the verge of crying.

Gentle music began to play, emanating from the rustling leaves above. Luna floated down the aisle first, in an eye-catching yellow dress. Hermione — who had nearly finished her final year at Hogwarts, though she had gotten permission from Professor McGonagall to come — followed soon after, wearing a fashionable but comfortable jumpsuit. Lee sauntered down next, surprisingly dressed in a suit and tie. Ginny went after, simply dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. And, giving Genevieve's arm one final squeeze, Katie went last, dressed nicely in a soft blue dress and walking gracefully to her place at the altar, which was really just an opening under two trees whose branches intertwined.

Then Andromeda glided down the aisle, holding baby Teddy, who was almost a year old and quite enjoyed fisting handfuls of petals from his small basket and letting them fall to the ground.

The wedding march began playing. Taking a deep breath, Genevieve took the hands of the two people who had come up beside her, one of whom was already bawling.

"Genevieve," sobbed Hagrid, "I can' tell yeh how much this means ter me."

"Oh, pull yourself together, Hagrid," said Professor McGonagall, though she herself did not seem far from tears.

Together, they strolled forward and that's when Genevieve saw him. Charlie.

He was beaming at her, and Genevieve found herself returning the grin. All anxiety disappeared at the sight of him, and Genevieve was certain that this was, in fact, her happy ending. Not this. He.

They reached the altar.

In a voice so official Genevieve could have laughed, Percy asked, "Who gives this young woman away?"

Hagrid began blubbering again. McGonagall shushed him.

"We do," she told Percy, her voice cracking. She gave Genevieve a gentle shove forward as she said it, causing Genevieve to stumble forward. Charlie caught her.

"I keep thinking you can't get more beautiful," he whispered in her ear. "And you keep proving me wrong."

She smiled, stood up straight, and took his hands.

"Very well." Percy nodded before launching into his speech, which he had insisted on keeping formal.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of these two faithful souls. The groom being my older brother, I've gotten to watch him grow up and fall in love with Genevieve, even though I might not have got to see all of it," Percy took a shuddering breath. Genevieve nudged him slightly, a reminder that they'd still forgiven him despite his mistakes and wanted him to be a part of this day, and a part of their lives. She thought he'd understood, because he continued in a stronger voice, "But I know they are both brave, compassionate people who truly deserve each other. I've seen them lean on each other these past months as they endured the hard times, and I've seen them rejoice in each other through the good. And as solemn and sacred as marriage is, I can think of no two better for each other than Charlie and Genevieve.

"Your vows?"

"Er, yeah," said Genevieve awkwardly, blinking rapidly as she took the small parchment Katie had handed her. "Um, when I walked through the doors of Hogwarts that first time, I was lost. I didn't understand the value of love or friendship or family because as amazing as my father was, he couldn't show me everything." She stopped for a moment to wipe her eyes, noticing that Charlie's were also glistening.

"And then you found me, and you showed me a side of life I never knew was possible. I haven't always realized it, but, Charlie, you've been my rock all these years. When everything changed, you were my constant. I've always been able to trust you and hold tight to you through the good times and bad, and I always want to.

"You gave me my dreams, and then a life with you became my dream, and you're prepared to give me that too. And I could never be more grateful. I want to always be with you, my rock, my dream, my friend."

"Charlie?" urged Percy.

"Just a second," protested Charlie, his voice cracking. He struggled to unroll his parchment. At last he began to read. "A long time ago, I said that you were my legacy. I was wrong. A legacy is something you leave behind, and I know that I will never leave you behind. As long as I live, I want you by my side.

"Not many people are lucky enough to find the love of their life, and even fewer find it in their best friend, but I did. I knew from the moment I met you that you were going to be a huge part in who I became, but even then I didn't understand how much. You give me a happiness I never thought I would find.

"I'm so excited to spend the rest of my life with you, no matter where it takes us. And no matter where we go, I have confidence in the future because I know you'll be in it."

"Do you, Charles Septimus Weasley, take Genevieve Elizabeth Snow, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you, Genevieve Elizabeth Snow, take Charles Septimus Weasley, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

Genevieve nodded, tears falling freely. "I do."

"Now for the rings."

Bill handed them each the other's ring.

As he slid her mother's battered silver ring onto her finger, Charlie said, "I give you this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you."

She placed the ring on his finger, echoing his words as she did it. "I give you this ring as an eternal symbol of my love and commitment to you."

Percy leaned in suddenly. "I'm sorry for always being such a colossal git to you," he said, loudly enough that only she and Charlie could hear.

"It's okay, Perce," she whispered back. "You always came around."

Genevieve had never seen him smile so widely as he proclaimed, "Then I declare you bonded for life."

Charlie cupped her face as he did that time which felt like so long ago, giving her a long, soft kiss. Percy raised his wand, sending silver stars revolving around them.

•~0~•

When Genevieve and Charlie stepped outside the house, the groomsmen stood in a line, each holding a single red tiger lily. Except for George, who held two. As she walked by them, they handed her their flowers, until finally Charlie withdrew from his robes a blue one. She grinned and kissed him again.

"Such a nice thank-you for the flowers," he mused. "Maybe I should get you flowers more often."

She swatted his arm. "It's not the flowers," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's the gesture."

They reached the garden, where the guests were waiting. Charlie turned to stand in front of her, bowing mock-formally and dramatically offering his hand.

"Would you be so kind as to dance with me?" he asked.

Genevieve laughed. "I would."

After that, the reception consisted simply of the usual activities. They cut the cake, listened to speeches, and Genevieve threw the bouquet — which, to general amusement, was caught by Katie, who was genuinely astonished. At last, as the festivities settled down, and most people left — though Oliver Wood lingered for quite a bit of time, talking to Katie, who alone seemed oblivious to his motives — they simply sat talking to the few that remained.

"So what are you going to do for your honeymoon?" inquired Katie.

"Well, we're going to move to Romania soon," explained Genevieve, "so we're spending our honeymoon here, to spend as much time as we can with the people we love."

"Look, I'm sorry, mates, but I have a job, you know. You can't stay with me always," joked George.

Ginny smacked him. "Shut up. Obviously she meant us too."

"And Teddy," added Genevieve. She had already pulled Harry aside and made him swear to take good care of him. "I'm his godmother, for heaven's sake, and I'll be living a good distance away, so I won't get to see him much, but I plan to visit as often as I can, and hopefully someday I can convince Andromeda to bring him to Romania for a few days here and there."

"Keep an eye out for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks in Romania," requested Luna. "Daddy says there's been an upsurge of sightings there recently, which is odd, since they were thought to live in Sweden."

Charlie shook his head, trying to refrain from laughing, while Genevieve promised, "We will, Luna. We might not find any, though. They're such shy creatures, and after all, we'll be working with dragons."

"That's true," agreed Luna.

Hermione, smartly, kept her mouth shut tight during the exchange.

"Oh, I'm going to miss you so much," said Katie.

"I'll miss you too," replied Genevieve, hugging her.

"Any plans for the future?" asked Hermione, who had already worked out a fifteen-year career path for herself. S.P.E.W. was starting to gain recognition, as well.

"Not particularly," answered Genevieve, taking Charlie's hand and squeezing it. "I kind of want to see where life takes us."

•~0~•

 **Ten years after the Battle of Hogwarts**

Norberta was surprisingly gentle today. Normally she'd be chasing down Genevieve and the other Dragonologists, shooting a nasty spout of flames all the way, but today she was almost docile. It wasn't as if she'd been like that all day, in fact, the night-shift workers had warned that she'd been an absolute nightmare, but as soon as she'd sensed Genevieve's presence, Norberta had calmed down.

Actually, all of the female dragons Genevieve had dealt with for the past few days had been less vicious than usual. The only times they had done that before were when —

Before she could finish that thought, however, a basset hound Patronus trotted into view. Haleigh's voice rang out.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley. My shift starts in half an hour, and yours ended ten minutes ago. I know you sometimes lose track of time when you're with the dragons, so I just wanted to remind you. See you soon."

Damn. She had to get home. With a nod to Jakob, who instantly understood, she Disapparated, landing on the doorstep.

"I'm home," she called as she hurried into the house.

"Mummy!" Five year old Noah came running, holding a small red tiger lily. Allie and Will followed close behind. Haleigh brought up the rear.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," said Haleigh politely.

"Hi, Haleigh," responded Genevieve warmly. "You can call me Genevieve," she reminded the young girl. "I'm sorry if I've made you late. Just tell Charlie what happened, he'll understand."

Haleigh was an intern at the sanctuary, having come to Romania from America to work with the dragons. She babysat Genevieve's kids, though, occasionally, for extra money. Charlie, on the other hand, had been promoted. He was now head of the sanctuary, with Genevieve as his right hand, though they still preferred to remain hands-on, as opposed to sitting in their respective offices.

"Thanks, Mrs. — Genevieve," corrected Haleigh as she left. "See you Friday!"

"Mum, Allie just conjured that flower from thin air!" said Will excitedly once Haleigh had gone. "What spell d'you think that was?"

"I was just going through your wedding photos," said Allie, "and I saw Dad holding the tiger lily, and then there was one in my hand!"

"She's going to be the best witch Hogwarts has ever seen!" declared Noah.

"You're sweet, Noah," said Allie, "but that's _if_ I go to Hogwarts. It's all the way in Scotland, remember? And I only have two years till I'm eleven."

"But Hogwarts is the best!" argued Noah. "You ought to go!"

"You ought to," admitted Genevieve. "All of you should. And Mum and Dad are working on something so you can, but it might take time, okay?"

"Okay," they all said happily.

"I'm glad I've still got three and a half years," said Will. "Surely you can figure it out by then."

"Hopefully."

Later that night, after Charlie had come home and the children had all fallen asleep — though Will tried so hard to resist — and Genevieve was doing laundry and Charlie was folding, he said quietly,

"I got the grant."

He broke the news as though he were merely stating that it was sunny that day. Genevieve couldn't believe it.

"You — what?"

Charlie's face betrayed a flicker of a smile. "I got the grant," he repeated, looking up at her this time. "As in, Allie can go to Hogwarts, we can live in Hogsmeade, and I can start a dragon sanctuary near enough in Scotland."

"That's —"

"— everything we were hoping for," finished Charlie, beaming.

"We're really doing it?" asked Genevieve, grinning widely. "We're going home?"

"We're going home," confirmed Charlie, dropping the laundry altogether and hugging her tightly. "Yeah, this bloke thought it was a good idea to have one in an area so heavily magically populated, for the protection of both humans and dragons. We can keep doing what we love _and_ be nearer to everyone."

"Actually . . ." Genevieve bit her lip, pulling away. "I was thinking about that, and . . . I reckon it might be time for me to retire."

"Why?"

"Well, I'm thirty. I've been doing this for almost a decade already. We have three kids, and — and —" Just then, a thought occurred to Genevieve. It made sense, and it only reinforced the point she was making. "And neither of us has a 'safe' job, even if we _are_ good at it."

"Then why should you be the one to give it up?" asked Charlie.

"Because of the family we have," said Genevieve. "It's all I need. I know I can be just as happy as I am now doing anything, so long as I have you and Allie and Will and Noah. Dragons are a part of you. It'd be impossible to separate."

Charlie looked at her. "You're sure about this?"

She nodded. "I am, yeah."

"Okay."

"Besides," she said. "Who knows? Maybe I can get a job at Hogwarts."

Charlie laughed. "Of course you would. McGonagall always loved you."

"Another thing, too," said Genevieve.

"What?" asked Charlie.

"You always said you wanted a big family, since you grew up in one and loved it, remember?"

"Yeah."

"So . . ." Genevieve took a deep breath. "So how would you feel if you knew ours was about to get a little bigger?"

"W-What?" asked Charlie, eyes wide. "You're . . . ?"

"If you trust Norberta's judgement." Genevieve shrugged, much better at hiding a smile than Charlie. "And she _was_ right the last three times."

"That's . . . brilliant," said Charlie, kissing Genevieve.

"I'll go to the local hospital and have it confirmed tomorrow," said Genevieve.

"Three more and we'll have a Quidditch team," joked Charlie.

"Then you can have the next three," retorted Genevieve, scoffing good-naturedly. "I quit."

•~0~•

"Who is it?" demanded a wary voice.

"It's the new Transfiguration teacher," said Genevieve cautiously.

Myrtle came out of her stall, looking furious at having been disturbed.

"Well, go away then!" she shouted, looking disdainfully at Genevieve, whose baby bump was, by then, noticeable.

"Okay," said Genevieve, taken aback. "I know it's been ten years, and I'm pregnant, but that was out of line."

Myrtle flinched, turning to look at her again. "Genevieve?"

"Yeah?"

"You're back!" The ghost came flying toward her, causing Genevieve to shudder as she inadvertently passed through her. "I thought you were gone! Are you here for long? You're really back? Do you have any crosswords?"

"Yes," laughed Genevieve. "I'm really back. And I'm here to stay. And did you really think I wouldn't bring crosswords?" She pulled out a thick book.

"Good," said Myrtle, trying to pull herself together. "Never leave again."

•~0~•

 **Nineteen years after the Battle of Hogwarts**

"I don't see why we can't just Apparate to King's Cross," muttered Charlie as a very confused taxi driver watched he and Genevieve heave three trunks out of the back of the cab. "Actually, why do we have to go to King's Cross at all? We live much closer to Hogwarts than we do here."

"Because," said Genevieve exasperatedly while performing a gentle Memory Charm on the driver, "the ride to Hogwarts is as much a part of the experience as the school year itself. Friendships are made, rivalries put aside, and news shared. And also, I don't trust you to Apparate safely and to the right place with four kids."

"What?" said Charlie indignantly. "I'm quite good at Apparating!"

"I think the poor old lady doing her shopping would disagree," shot back Genevieve, grinning.

"The examiner was very unclear!" countered Charlie, though he was smiling himself. "And I did pass the second time!"

"Mum, Dad, we've gone over this before," cut in Will impatiently. "Can we just go already?"

Genevieve ruffled his hair. "Sure, Willy Billy."

Will scowled. "I'm sixteen, Mum. I don't need cute nicknames."

Genevieve feigned offense. "But you'll always be my little boy."

Will rolled his eyes, but Genevieve knew he really didn't mind.

"All right, we're going, we're going."

"C'mon, Allie!" Charlie called over his shoulder.

Allie walked behind them, pushing her trolley absentmindedly, her nose still buried in her book.

"Dora, take my hand," instructed Genevieve.

In a passable imitation of Will, Dora rolled her eyes.

"I'm nine, Mum. I don't need to hold your hand."

Genevieve laughed. "No growing up for you yet, my little spitfire. You'll hold my hand as long as I say so."

Dora huffed. "Fine," she relented. "I wish I could go to Hogwarts already."

"Only two years, Dora," said Genevieve. "And you get to take care of Flurry all by yourself this year," she added, referring to the kitten they'd gotten after Snowflake had died of old age, though she had lived to a _very_ old age.

"Where's Noah?" asked Charlie.

"Went inside already," answered Allie, still not looking up from her book. "He saw Amelia and ran to catch up."

"He did?" said Charlie carefully, raising his eyebrows.

"He's only thirteen," said Genevieve, shaking her head. "Too young."

"It's Katie's daughter," reminded Charlie. "She's not exactly going to break his heart."

"She's more Oliver's daughter than you think," countered Genevieve. "Crazy competitive. And Noah's such a sweetheart."

"How could he not be, with a middle name like Charles?" said Charlie, his eyes twinkling.

Genevieve laughed. "Learn _some_ humility, Charlie. You're a bad example for the kids."

"I'm the cool parent," bragged Charlie.

"There's the barrier," pointed out Will.

"Here's your chance to prove it," smirked Genevieve. "Race you there?"

"You're on," said Charlie.

"Not without me!" interrupted Dora, dropping Genevieve's hand and holding her arms out to Charlie expectantly. He laughed and allowed her to climb onto his back.

"Go!"

They dashed madly through the barrier, coming out at Platform 9 3/4.

Will appeared behind them, shaking his head. "You lot are so lame."

Allie came into view.

"Allie!" shrieked a voice nearby.

"Victoire!" exclaimed Allie, finally letting the book drop to her side, though her finger kept her place in it.

As soon as they met, the two began conversing in rapid French, which Victoire had learned from her mother and Allie from a book.

"It's her last year at Hogwarts," whispered Charlie in Genevieve's ear.

"Oh, shut up," she told him.

A familiar face walked up to them.

"Teddy!" Dora catapulted toward the turquoise-haired boy, leaping into his arms with a huge smile on her face.

"Dora!" exclaimed Teddy in the same manner as he spun her around before setting her down, a little dizzy.

"What are you doing here?" asked Genevieve, hugging him. "I seem to recall you graduating two years ago."

"I've come to see you lot off," said Teddy defensively, running a hand through his hair. His gaze drifted over to Victoire. She and Allie stopped talking for a moment, their eyes flicking over to Teddy. Victoire giggled before turning back to Allie.

"I see," said Charlie crisply. "Well," — he nodded in their direction — "you'd better get on with it then."

With a final nervous smile, Teddy slowly approached Victoire, who went with him happily. Allie, undisturbed, put her luggage up and went to talk to David, Lee's son, who shot her a quick grin and left behind the clearly disgusted Will and Fred II. As they talked, he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, and she blushed.

Fred II made a noise much like a strangled cat. Will laughed.

"Fred, Will, be nice," reprimanded Genevieve.

"Inseparable, those two," commented George lightly.

"Not certain whether that's a good or bad thing," replied Genevieve as the two crept away, no doubt to cause mayhem somewhere.

"I've been meaning to ask you," said George. "Why'd you give him such a handsome name if he's not going to use it?"

" 'Will' suits him much better than 'George' does," said Genevieve simply. "And 'William' _is_ his middle name."

"I suppose that makes sense," sighed George.

Suddenly, James surfaced, looking confused.

"Where's Noah?" he asked.

"If you can find Amelia," Charlie informed him, "that's where he'd be."

"Thanks," said James, sprinting off already.

"Those two are who you need to look out for, I'd reckon," said Charlie. "James convinces Noah to break rather a lot of rules."

Genevieve shrugged. "James is to Noah as Sirius was to Remus. They balance each other out."

"Gen!" Katie caught her attention, hurrying up with Lee close behind. "I've been looking all over for you!"

"Funny, I can't even seem to keep track of my own kids," joked Genevieve.

Charlie, sensing the reunion between the four, graciously bowed out, taking Dora to find Lily, who would start Hogwarts the same year as her.

They watched the train begin to move. The last few stragglers found their compartments, and each kid was waving furiously at their parents, who waved back reminiscently.

"You know what Fred would say, right now, if he was here?" said George.

"Likely something along the lines of 'I know I was easily the most memorable wizard in any given room, but why are you dolts being so sickeningly sentimental over a long-dead bloke?' " supplied Genevieve.

They all laughed.

"Probably," agreed Lee, Katie, and George.

Eventually, Genevieve had to leave to get to Hogwarts in time to make sure everything was ready for the incoming students.

People often thought of her as the next McGonagall. Deputy Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor, Transfiguration professor . . . it was easy to make the connection. Everyone knew she'd be the next headmistress, too.

But for now, Genevieve was happy with life as it was. Wherever it took them.

•~0~•

 **A/N: Again, thank you guys so much for reading my story, and I hope you enjoyed it. I decided to place the series trivia on my profile, so if you want, go check it out!**


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